


Pretend (You Do)

by leekay



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-17 22:03:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9348410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leekay/pseuds/leekay
Summary: "Just pretend you're still in love with me and no one will know the difference."In which Yuuri and Viktor have just broken up, but pretend that they haven't for a night of fantasy that ends in disaster.





	1. A Carbon Copy and A Few Too Many To Drink

Nagoya, December, 2017

…

The road was dark and sleek in front of them. Its vast expanse reflected the street lights in blurs of red, blues and greens. The leather interior of Viktor’s car felt like a warm cave as Yuuri watched the droplets of rain trail down the tinted windows in a race to the finish. He gazed at Viktor from the corner of his eye. The older man was bathed in the passing light of the street lamps, a glow that both warmed his skin and accentuated the harsh line of his mouth as he drove in complete silence.

Two weeks ago Yuuri would have dissolved that line with a kiss to the soft plane between his neck and collar bone or a gentle purr of reassurance in his ear. Tonight there was nothing that would change the stern line of Viktor’s mouth, nor the harsh concentration in his gaze.

Yuuri’s mouth felt suddenly dry as another wave of guilt rolled over him. He swallowed and exhaled a deep breath out through his nose. “So what are we going to tell them?” he braved, it was the longest sentence he’d spoken to Viktor all week.

“We aren’t going to tell them anything. We’re going to pretend everything is okay and then you’ll go home and I’ll go back to Russia and everyone will forget about us. It’s the easiest way…I don’t want to cause a scene.”

Yuuri nodded despite knowing that this game of theirs would achieve quite the opposite of what Viktor hoped. Eventually people would realise, their little love story wouldn’t be so easily forgotten. A scene would be had after all. But he wasn’t about to argue with Viktor. Not again.

They completed their drive in a shroud of silence so charged Yuuri could feel it crackle across his skin. When they had parked Viktor wrenched his door open so fast his arm looked in danger of popping out of its socket. Yuuri exited the car slowly, breathing in deeply the smell of rain on earth as he stood to join Viktor. The last droplets of the storm dusted their skin as they approached the building in which the prestigious Grand Prix Banquet was being held.

This year’s final was in Nagoya, just a ten hour drive (or 1 hour flight) from Yuuri’s home in Hasetsu. He and Viktor had been staying there and training at his home rink for the past month. After a year in Russia with Viktor it had been nice to be home. Yuuri knew as soon as he saw the announcement that the Grand Prix Final was being held in Japan that this would be the year. He would win gold, and he would finally get to marry Viktor. And then he screwed it all up.

Viktor had suggested they get there late enough that everyone would already be inside the hall and most of the reporters would have given up on their vulture like circling of the event. He took them away from the ornately carved main entrance and around to a side door to avoid piquing too much attention when they entered.

Noise burst from behind the door to the banquet hall and Yuuri felt a thousand knots form in the base of his stomach all at once. Viktor stopped in front of the closed doors and turned to him, slipping a gold ring elegantly onto his own finger as he did so. Yuuri followed suite.

Viktor’s appearance was not lost on him. Yuuri’s skin warmed as he took in the elegant charcoal suite that was perfectly tailored to outline Viktor’s lean body. It made his legs look impossibly long and hugged his torso in places that sent Yuuri’s heart fluttering. The tie expertly knotted around his neck was in Viktor’s favourite shade of purple. A rich, red based purple that made his skin shine like gold and turned his eyes into bright beacons.

“Okay.” Viktor heaved out a sigh that rumbled deep in his chest. “This is just for tonight. I don’t …really know how its going to go… Let’s think of it as a step sequence but instead of a story to weave its a facade to keep up.” As he spoke Viktor’s face transformed from hard lines to the soft, smouldering smirk he was best known for. The skin around his eyes relaxing into a carbon copy of the Viktor Yuuri knew so well.

“Viktor. I don’t know if I can play this game.”

“Just pretend you’re still in love with me and no one will know the difference.”

“Viktor…” Yuuri choked out. He didn’t dare say anything else, lest his voice betray the warring shame and rage vibrating through his entire body. His ears prickled as hot tears threatened to spill. Viktor had no idea what he was talking about. He’d hardly given Yuuri a chance to explain his decisions. He’d made up his mind not to listen to Yuuri’s _feeble_ justifications and, it would seem, to wallow in his self pity and anger.

No. He wouldn’t let Viktor get to him. Yuuri turned and offered his arm to his former lover.

If Viktor was surprised, he didn’t let it show as he obligingly took Yuuri’s arm, his grasp cool and hard as marble. Viktor pushed the door open and they were illuminated with a blaze of warm light that shone from every surface in the room. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, Yuuri took in the scene of the banquet hall. It was vastly different to the venue in Barcelona two years ago where he’d first spoken to Viktor. Danced with him, laughed with him and then forgotten it all the next morning. Oh how everything fell into place once he’d been reminded of that night.

This hall was rich in colour and opulent in decoration that was a fusion of traditional Japanese artistry and modern minimalism. Big round tables were scattered around a slick dance floor. A live band played on a raised stage, the singer was crooning out a cover of an English dance song.

Viktor was rigid beside him, his eyes darting around the room, calculating their next move. Yuuri assumed that he’d spend his night being dragged around by his former coach, playing his part as humble student and adoring lover. The sudden absence of Viktor’s hand on his arm suggested otherwise.

Viktor moved away from Yuuri, putting enough distance between them that if he reached out all he would find was air. Yuuri could feel the pressure building behind his eyes again. Viktor’s face was as cool as the ice he had dominated for so many years. It gave nothing away “I’m going to go say hello to Yakov and Lilia.” His voice cam from outer space, “You should go mingle. I’ll catch up with you shortly.”

Viktor’s distance, paired with the smooth way he ordered him around even now, filled Yuri with an unexplainable anger. His next words shot like daggers from his lips.

“Thanks, Nikiforov.”

Viktor’s flinch was audible and shame filled every crevice of Yuuri’s body. He wished he could pull the words back, turn back time with his bare hands, but Viktor was already disappearing into the crowd, warm light reflecting off his silver hair.

Finding himself alone, Yuuri looked around to make sure no one was witness to their private scene. He was unsure what to do with himself, he felt like a plate of jelly that had just been smacked- endlessly wobbling.

He needed a drink in his hand, just one, a social lubricant to get the ball rolling. He ordered two champagnes out of habit, it’d become a banquet tradition.

“Woah there Yuuri, breaking out the champagne this early? You only just got here!”

Phichit slid into the bar stool next to him, his grin so bright it had Yuuri seeing stars. Phichit had competed in the pairs skating division this year, so Yuuri had only seen him around briefly, he was glad they’d be able to catch up tonight.

“Phichit! I’ve missed seeing you around. Congrats on making the podium!”

His young friend blushed and broadened his smile, which seemed to Yuuri impossible. “Thanks Yuuri! Congratulations to you too! You’ve finally got that gold! Doesn’t that mean a wedding…”

“And a honeymoon.” Chris Giacometti purred, placing himself elegantly in the seat next to Yuuri with a wink.

Yuuri couldn’t help the blush that rose to dust his cheeks and ears. This was exactly the conversation he’d been hoping to avoid, but one he’d obviously have to navigate.

“Well…” he began shakily, “There’s a lot of … planning to do.” He winced internally, how do you avoid lying to your friends without telling them the truth?

“I want a spot next to you guys at that altar once you’ve got it all sorted out.” Chris said, picking up the extra glass of champagne Yuuri had ordered.

“That’s the only podium you’ll ever be standing on Giacometti.” Came JJ’s booming voice. It was always like this when they got together. Loud and raucous. A conversation that consisted entirely of innuendos, put downs and incognito penis jokes.

Chris laughed, “And you’ll just be watching from the audience JJ.”

As much as Yuuri enjoyed the theatre of watching JJ and Chris interact, he found himself unable to concentrate on what they were saying. Heat flushed his neck and torso and he could feel his breathing become shallow. Yuuri was not usually one to get claustrophobic, but the crowd of friends around him all talking about a wedding that would never happen made Yuuri feel like his skin was about to crawl off his body.

Before his body caught on fire from its own heat a cool hand circled around his waist from the right. Soft and familiar. A touch like home. Yuuri closed his eyes and for a moment, it wasn't fantasy.

“Gentlemen, If you’ll excuse me I have to have a word with my fiancé. I’ll be back to deal with you later.” Viktor said playfully, flashing them a grin and a charming wave.

Viktor took them to a quiet corner of the banquet hall. His face was strained but he looked more like himself than he had before.

“Thank you.” Yuuri breathed, looking up into the taller man’s sharp eyes. For a moment he could see the old Viktor behind his confusion and anger. He was the Viktor that had cooked them pork cutlet bowls on Yuuri’s birthday and built luxurious pillow forts stocked with soup, tissues and matcha when Yuuri got the flu last season. Or the Viktor with whom he’d laid tangled underneath the sheets, breathless and desperately in love.

“Don’t mention it. I just wasn’t sure how you’d handle all the questions. We should get our stories straight before we run into that kind of situation again.”

No. Viktor wasn’t that man anymore.

...

leekay: [tumblr](http://sparkletato.tumblr.com)

luidi: [tumblr ](http://luidiwrites.tumblr.com)/ [Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luidi/pseuds/Luidi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! This is my first time actually seeing a fic through and publishing it so any thoughts or kudos will be greatly flailed and happy danced over!
> 
> Many many many thanks to my dear friend Luidi for reading and betaing and conspiring with me to make this fic a reality <3
> 
> This is the first part in a multi chapter fic that I hope to update at least once a week!
> 
> You can find both of us on tumblr using the links above (because I'm currently a noob who can't figure out how to do html properly)


	2. A Tired Heart and A Face of Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Fine. I'll play your little game. And I'll win that too."
> 
> In which Viktor and Yuuri tip toe around the truth and make heated digs at each other over fancy dinner tables.

Viktor stood rigid, staring out over the banquet hall at all the people he’d come to know over the past decade. He thought he’d be able to slide right into his usual charm and take up his role as six time world champion of the ice. Viktor Nikiforov. But standing there right next to him was the proof that he was not that man anymore.

He was tired. So, so tired and wounded in ways he’d never admit to. He’d put everything into Yuuri, all his hopes, his energy…his love. It still wasn’t enough. He hadn’t expected Katsuki Yuuri to be so selfish.

Viktor let go of Yuuri’s arm and it felt like stepping off a cliff. He had to put space between them, if only for enough time to get his head straight. He took a step away from Yuuri, testing his strength. When his resolve didn’t crumble, he took another. “I’m going to go say hello to Yakov and Lilia. You should… mingle… I’ll catch up with you shortly.” He made to walk away, the movement tore a rift between them.  

“Thanks… Nikiforov.”

Viktor hesitated, his whole body flinching from the snarl in Yuuri’s voice. He turned away, silver hair curtaining his face and shielding burning eyes.  He zig-zagged through the room, brushing mindlessly past people who all knew his name. His legend. Viktor’s head throbbed as he continued to move, not even sure in which direction Yakov and Lilia were, when a strong hand halted his mindless search.

“Viktor.” Came the familiar voice of one Russian fairy.

“Yurio.” he exclaimed, projecting a brightness into his voice that he hadn’t felt for weeks. Viktor rustled the younger man’s silky mop of hair and relished in the grimace that overcame his porcelain face. Yuri swore in Russian and Viktor let out a chuckle that bubbled up from a pit of mirth inside him that had sat untouched for too long.

“Where’s that gold medal stealing pig?” Yuri snarled. His predictable malice made the world seem to shift slightly back to normal. He smiled and was surprised to find that it felt genuine.

“Probably at the bar I’d say.” Viktor replied.

“Shouldn’t you be keeping an eye on him. We don’t want a repeat of last year, do we?” Yuri said grimacing. Last year’s drunk Yuuri was even messier than the year before. Read: swinging from chandeliers naked and explicitly detailing what he was going to do with Victor that night for the whole banquet to hear. Victor’s face burned for days afterwards, both from embarrassment and something other entirely. It was a wonder they’d let them back this year.

“He can take care of himself.” Viktor only hoped that were true.

Yuri let out a disbelieving laugh but didn't attempt a comment. “So, when are you two going to tie the knot?”

Never.

“It’s turning out to be more complicated than we thought.” Viktor avoided Yuri’s gaze.

“Trouble in paradise is there Nikiforov?” Yuri was as sharp as knives, and they'd known each other since he was ten years old. Of course he’d pick up on Viktor’s hesitation.

“No… it’s just… the marriage laws here are quite literally more complicated than we thought.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes at Viktor and raised a defined eyebrow. Viktor became suddenly aware of how much older he’d gotten. In the two years since his first Grand Prix final, Yuri had grown at least another foot taller, his hair was a little darker and there was the muscle definition of a young man who trained like his life depended on it. Not to mention the slightest shadow of stubble that dusted his sharp jaw.

Viktor realised they’d been silent for a beat too long, but he was saved from having to fill it by the arrival of Yuri’s close friend Otabek Altin. Otabek placed a hand on Yuri’s waist, whose eyes flashed up to meet Viktor’s.

“Otabek, good to see you again.”

“And you Viktor. Congratulations, I hear there'll be a wedding soon."

"Yes, well..."

"Oh shit." Yuri interrupted, saving Viktor from yet another awkward explanation. "Someone better go save the katsudon, looks like he's two drinks in already and those imbeciles will do nothing to slow him down."

Viktor looked over to where Yuuri was crammed in amongst some of their close friends. On the surface it appeared to be a friendly congratulatory banter, but Viktor knew Yuuri, despite it all, and he could feel the discomfort oozing off his skin from across the room.

"That'd be me." Viktor let out a laugh a lot warmer than he'd intended it to be.

He made his way over to Yuuri, snippets of their conversation reaching his ears.

"... not the only thing you'll be getting tonight."

"... Yuurriiii, have another..."

"... are you okay? You look..."

Reaching him, Viktor did the only thing he could think to do. He slinked his arm around Yuuri's waist as he jostled himself into the tight circle. Yuuri's body tensed and then quickly relaxed into Viktor's arm. He felt something pull at his heart.

“Gentlemen. If you’ll excuse me I have to have a word with my fiancé. I’ll be back to deal with you later.” He mustered up as much humour as he could and injected it into a playful smile and wave before ushering Yuuri to a quiet corner of the room.

"Thank you." Yuuri breathed, meeting his eyes. That was a dangerous thing to do, meet the eyes of a man you so desperately loved when you were trying so hard not to.

Viktor put more space between them, just enough that they wouldn't be overheard. "Don't mention it. I just wasn’t sure how you’d handle all the questions. We should get our stories straight before we run into that kind of situation again.”

Yuuri's face fell into shadow. "Right" he nodded, curt.

"I just had a run in with Yuri. I led on that complicated marriage laws here are partly the problem. Perhaps if it comes up again our story could be that you need to go home to tie up some affairs and see your parents while I stay here to figure out how we can get married in Russia given the... political climate..."

Yuuri breathed out sharp through his nostrils. "There shouldn't have to be a story Viktor. We should just tell the truth."

Here was the argument Viktor had been waiting for from the start. He squared his shoulders in preparation to defend his motives behind this grand performance, but looking into Yuri's eyes now, his heart broke all over again.

“Yuuri." It was the first time Viktor had addressed him by name since it all began. "I don't have the energy to deal with this now. Not here. Not at this banquet where it will blow up entirely in our faces and everyone will be talking and whispering. I'm tired Yuuri. Exhausted just like you thought I'd be. So please, just for tonight help me indulge in these last minutes of normality before you fuck off back to Hasetsu with your sparkly new coach and your gold medal."

Yuuri's jaw dropped five floors and lightning struck behind his eyes. Viktor knew that he'd just made their night five times harder, but he didn’t have the energy to muster up any remorse. He was tired of feeling guilty, of sleepless nights and aching bones. He was tired of looking into Yuuri’s dark eyes and seeing himself as the shell of a man who burnt himself into the ground trying to please everyone. He was done.

"You don't know anything Viktor." Yuuri whispered, "But fine, I'll play your little game. And I'll win that too." He stepped in to fill the distance between them and pressed hot lips to Viktor's for two fleeting seconds before walking away. Viktor's skin burned from the touch, lead creeping into his veins.

He watched Yuuri slink back to the bar and order with two slim fingers. A moment later two shots of an amber liquid were put down in front of him and he slammed them back one after another. A round of cheers sounded from their friends and he was given a third. It was like watching someone press down on a big red self-destruct button.

Viktor closed his eyes for a moment, breathing a deep sigh out through his nose. Two could play at that game Yuuri.

Shoving his exhaustion aside Viktor followed his ex-fiancé’s path to the bar and ordered a shot of dark rum. It was thick and sweet as it ran down his throat like syrup. Victor could already feel it warming his skin and relieving the tension in his shoulders. On a whim, he ordered another, meeting Yuuri’s eyes over the top of his glass. This moment used to send flutters through his body, but now all it did was remind him that they were at war as Yuuri’s eyes flashed with malice.

“Finally showing up to the party are we Nikiforov?” Chris’s voice was a low grumble deep in his chest.

“You know me, always fashionably late.” Viktor replied, squeezing Chris’s shoulders and flashing him with a wink.

"Or just late.” Yuri dug, coming over to join them. He gave Yuuri a firm clap on the shoulder, almost knocking his drink from his hand, “Cool it there Katsudon, nobody wants to see you hanging half naked off a chandelier again.”

Yuuri let out a laugh tinged with the slur of alcohol, “I’m sure Viktor does” he said, turning to him with heavy lidded eyes and a familiar smirk that was all innuendo.

They were standing much closer than Viktor had realised. So close that it only took a single step to press his body flush with Yuuri’s. The hum of adrenalin (or was it the alcohol?) encouraged him to snake his hand up to cradle the back of Yuuri’s neck, “I sure do.” he whispered against the soft skin of Yuuri’s face, loud enough for the others to hear. Viktor was nothing if not a performer. World renowned, at that.

Yuuri melted into Viktor’s touch, seemingly forgetting the catastrophic state of their relationship as his eyes fluttered closed. His jaw jutted forward, grazing Viktor’s neck and sending a marathon of shivers across his body. Viktor’s emotions were at war with one another. The sweet satisfaction of a victory, the bitter nostalgia of holding Yuuri so close and knowing he’d never do it again. With their faces so near Viktor could just lean down and…

“Ew! That was not and an invitation to be disgusting.” Yuri grunted, faux retching into his collar.

Yuuri blinked his eyes open and stepped away from Viktor hurriedly. A scowl slid in place to cover the softness he’d just betrayed. Viktor felt hot behind the eyes. Yuuri had moved away from him with the determination of someone trying to avoid the plague. Viktor ordered another shot, the rum sinking into his stomach like metal.

“Anyway,” Yuri continued, eager to change the subject, “Dinner is about to start, we should…”

“Ladies and gentlemen, the banquet is about to begin. If you would please make your way over to your table, entrees will be served shortly. We hope you’re all enjoying your night and continue to do so.” came a voice over the speakers.

“I’m a psychic.” Yuri grinned, flashing sharp teeth.

“Or psycho.” Victor joked, a rum induced blush rising to flush his cheeks and neck.

As a group they made their way over to the table reserved for their division. The table seated twelve, six finalists and their coaches, although they were short one, with Yakov coaching both himself and Yuri and Victor coaching Yuuri.  

There was no assigned seating but the group naturally split off into coaches and skaters. Yuuri shuffled past Viktor hurriedly to sit on the opposite side from him, next to JJ and Seung-Gil. Viktor sat on the cusp of both groups, wedged in between Chris and Yakow. He could feel Yuuri’s avoidance from across the table.

Before long meals were served, champagne was drunk and conversations were had. Viktor was pushing mushrooms around on his plate and pretending to listen to Chris and Yakov talk about past routines when snippets of Yuuri’s conversation with JJ reached his ears.

“So, Yuuri, you finally got your hands on that gold. What’s the plan for next season?”

Viktor’s eyes shot up to look at Yuuri. Three empty champagne glasses sat beside him and there was another one half full in his hand. Yuuri’s posture was getting looser, his eyes more distant. He could ruin it all right then.

“Well, we’re not really sure. Viktor’s going back to Russia and I might fuck off back to Hatsetsu…”

“Yuuri!” Viktor burst, “Do you… want my mushrooms? You know how I hate them.”  Both Yuuri and JJ turned to him. Yuuri’s eyes were mirky, his face unable to hide his confusion. It was a lame save, Viktor knew.

“Viktor!” JJ boomed, “What’s this about Yuuri staying in Japan ey?” Viktor winced as the attention of the whole table turned on their conversation.

“He just has to go back home to tie up some affairs, see his parents that kind of thing…”

“Viktor’s gotten sick of me so he’s shipping me back home.” Yuuri slurred, a few around the table chuckled and Viktor’s smile tightened.

“You know that’s not it…dear.” he forced. He met his former lover’s gaze across the table. Yuuri’s eyes now shone with spite and there was a challenge set in the slant of his mouth. This was not a man Viktor knew.

“So then whats the plan for next season? How are you going to coach Yuuri from across the ocean?” JJ asked.

Yuuri spoke before he could, “Viktor’s not going to coach me.” Viktor’s pulse seemed to still, murmurs of confusion flittered around the table. He could feel the seams of their charade unraveling around him.

“While he’s here in Japan.” he hastily attempted to amend. “I trust that Yuuri can practice on his own while he’s home. Besides he needs his rest. He’s worked hard for so long.”

Their eyes met across the table for a brief moment. Viktor thought he saw something stir in Yuuri’s eyes, something he felt in his own. Yuuri turned away.

“You could stay with him Vitya?” Yakov suggested. It was at this time Viktor realized the attention of the whole table was invested in their conversation. Two performers in a spotlight. This is exactly what Viktor had been afraid of. Heat curled up his neck and Viktor tugged at his tie.

“I’ve got to sort some things out in Russia, get a head start on next season, visit home…”

“Six times world champions need their rest too, Nikiforov.” Chris purred softly from beside him. When Viktor met his concerned eyes, years of friendship flashed before them and the muscles of his face relaxed. Even in turmoil, some things remain a constant.

“I’m fine, Chris. But thank you for saying so.” Viktor said softly.

“I’m just saying… you don’t want to burn yourself into the ground…” he trailed off. Viktor blinked against the swell of emotions threatening to surface. These were the words Yuuri had used. The words that kept him up at night.

“I’m fi…”

“That’s what I tried to tell him.” Yuuri burst, “But he’s not going to listen to m…”

“I said I’m _FIN_ E Yuri. I’m _fine_. Can we _please_ stop discussing my eventual burning into the ground and just enjoy the rest of the meal?”

Everyone at the table went silent. A few cleared their throats, gazes were averted. Across from him, Yuuri’s face turned to stone.

 

*****

 

After dessert Yuuri was the first to excuse himself. He stumbled on his way to the bathroom, crashing into a stall when he got there and locking himself in. He hated that he was drunk. Hated that he was here again, crying hot tears in a bathroom cubicle. They bubbled over before he could stop himself, thick, silent streams that wet the front of his pale blue suit vest.

Yuuri stilled as someone else entered the bathroom. They were whistling a tune in low tones. Yuuri let out a shaky breath and winced as it echoed through the pristine bathroom. The whistling stopped.

“Katsudon. Is that you?” Yuri’s voice floated above the cubicle. This would be the second time he’d caught Yuuri crying in a toilet.

“No….” he sniffled. His voice caught and amplified the depth of his pathetic-ness ten fold.

“Don’t be stupid you pig. Come out here.”

Yuuri reluctantly opened the door. The memory of their last toilet cubicle encounter replaying in both their minds. So much had changed since then and nothing at all.

“What’s going on?” Yuri demanded. His voice held no sympathy, only a hybrid of frustration and something Yuuri was choosing to interpret as genuine concern.

“Nothing’s goi…”

“Don’t you dare say it’s nothing. Not after what happened at dinner. You and Viktor have both been fucking weird all night. I know there’s something up.” Yuri’s face was inches away from his, breath hot on Yuuri’s skin. Their bodies were so close he could feel the younger man's heart beating. Slower and more confident than his own. 

Yuuri took a deep breath in and readied himself to explain. 

 

**

 

leekay: [tumblr](http://sparkletato.tumblr.com/)

luidi: [tumblr ](http://luidiwrites.tumblr.com/)/ [Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luidi/pseuds/Luidi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey All! 
> 
> I'm posting this chapter from Rome! Which is why it's taken me so long to update because of all the travelling. But since I got an email today about YOI winning the Crunchyroll Anime Awards (and because of the encouraging comments and support I received on the first chapter <3 ) I finally got to editing Chapter 2! 
> 
> A billion thanks again to Luidi for beta-ing this chapter (twice!!!) and for the amazing suggestions <3 
> 
> Comments, kudos or feedback would be greatly appreciated!


	3. A Secret Exposed and An Old Leather Couch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, what the fuck are you doing then, parading around like you’re still together?” 
> 
> In which Yuuri takes off all his clothes again and Viktor walks away.

Silence ascended on the candle-lit bathroom as the two men stood across from each other. Yuri’s eyes were thunderstorms as he stared at Yuuri, whose nervous heart beat seemed to echo in the tight space.

Images of that night flashed behind Yuuri’s eyelids every time he blinked. _Viktor welcoming him home, silver hair tussled and skin beautifully complimented by the lilac sweater Yuuri had given him for Valentines day. Viktor sitting across from him, swirling a glass of red. All soft smiles and warm skin._

Yuuri hesitated, Viktor would be disappointed if he told anyone now. Even if it were Yuri, “I don’t think… I can’t… tell you.” He sighed, avoiding Yuri’s narrowed eyes.

“Come on pig, spit it out!” he snarled, flecks of his spit landed on Yuuri’s glasses.

_Viktor’s face dropping, his hand slipping from his glass. Yuuri’s heart pounding._

Yuuri breathed in deeply, his whole body tensing with the brevity of what he was about to let out., “Viktor isn’t my coach anymore. And we’re not together, there’s not going to be a wedding.”

 _Viktor’s shouting voice. His changing face, angry, scared. Broken_.

Yuri’s eyes widened and he took a step back. When he didn't say anything Yuuri continued.

“It happened about a week ago, maybe a week and a half. Coaching and competing at the same time was burning him out. He was barely eating, sleeping fitfully, obsessing over little details. He was just… breaking…” 

Yuuri paused to catch his breath, his voice dangerously close to revealing the flood of tears that threatened once again to break.

“So I found another coach, here, in Japan.” He continued, “I thought it would good for him, you know, take some stress off before the finals. I thought it would be good for us. But he didn’t take it very well.” 

_Viktor, shaking with anger. His face red and tear stained. His hands pulling violently out of Yuuri’s pleading grasp._

“I didn’t think finding a new coach would mean losing Viktor completely! I only meant to help him. I don’t kno…”

“Jesus.” Yuri breathed out to stop his rambling. He dragged a hand through his blonde locks and leaned up against the sink. The young Russian was elegantly clad in a red velvet suite and black dress shirt, his lean body filling it out perfectly.

“So, what the _fuck_ are you doing then, parading around like you’re still together?” he said finally.

“Viktor didn't want to cause a scene.”

“Well that’s clearly not working.”

“I know.” Yuuri’s voice wheezed out in a defeated whisper. Explaining it out loud made him realise how ridiculous their situation was. They were grown men for fucks sake, tip toeing around each other and making heated digs over fancy dinner tables.

He was a grown man who’d made a mistake and was now paying for it in the frown of Viktor’s mouth. The tiredness set into the purple skin beneath his eyes and the dull ache of scorn that burned from them.

Both Yuri’s were silent for a few moments, looking anywhere but at each other. The sound of their breathing filled the marbled bathroom. The light from the candles threw dramatic shadows across Yuri’s face.

“Just please don’t tell Viktor you know.” Yuuri whispered eventually. “Not tonight.”

“I won’t” Yuri said, his voice softer than Yuuri had ever heard it, “But you two better fucking fix this. And fix it _soon_. It can’t be over because of a stupid fight. 

 

***

 

They came out of the bathroom to find all the tables pushed aside to reveal a dance floor that greatly resembled the one Viktor and Yuuri had first met on two years ago.

The young Russian placed a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. He nodded, a swift, angular movement, before maneuvering gracefully through the crowd to reach Otabek. 

Finding himself alone again, Yuuri scanned the room for a familiar face to latch onto. He found Phichit, his most favourite of familiar faces, ordering a drink at the bar. 

Viktor was at the edge of the dancefloor with Chris, his purple tie was stuffed into the front of his jacket and at least three of his shirt buttons were undone. Chris had one hand tugging on Viktor’s fore arm and the other wrapped around a big colourful drink. They were laughing and stumbling. Chris pulling Viktor further into the throng of swaying figure skaters.

Viktor’s familiar laugh reached Yuuri’s ears and sent needles straight into his stomach. The familiar heat of jealously crawled up his neck and crinkled the skin of his face into a frown. It was bred from the same anger that had bubbled up at dinner until he couldn't stop himself from almost ruining everything. And from wanting to. 

When Chris suggested taking a break, Viktor was soft and appreciative and something had passed between them that twisted Yuuri’s heart. He liked to believe it was the alcohol that made him react the way he did. That turned him into a jealous little five year old and made him continue to push the best thing in his life further away.

He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts and made his way over to Phichit.

"Yuuri! How was dinner?" Phichit beamed as he sat down next to him. Yuuri sunk into the leather of the seat and let the familiarity of Phichit’s company roll over him. He relaxed all the muscles he hadn’t realised he’d been clenching.

"It was fine, pretty boring." He said, avoiding his former rink mates deep brown eyes.

If Phichit had heard anything about what happened at dinner, he didn’t let on. "For me too. In the pairs, there's twice as many people trying to feed their egos." He laughed.

"Seems like that's all this party's good for this year." Yuuri muttered. 

Phichit raised an eyebrow and stood, holding a hand out to Yuri, "Shall we dance then?" 

Yuuri laughed, “I’ll need another drink first."

 

***

 

"So how long are you sticking around for Viktor?" Chris shouted over the music. They were surrounded on all sides by moving bodies. Limbs brushed up against Viktor as he danced with Chris. Their pace comfortable and smooth, Viktor found himself able to relax into the dance without thinking.

"I’m not sure…" he shouted back, “It depends on what Yuuri’s doing. What about you?”

"I’m out of here in a few days. You should come to Sweden with me. We could have a mini break at my lodge. Imagine it..." Chris flung his arms wide, splashing his now melted drink and knocking at least three people. Viktor winced and mouthed apologies on his behalf. “…deep tissue massages, round the clock cocktails, skinny dipping in the heated pool…”

"I've hardly got time for a mini break Chris. But thank you for the offer.” Viktor laughed.

"You’re such a party pooper Viktor Nikiforov.”

“It’s one of my many talents.” Viktor joked, although it seemed closer to the truth nowadays.

Chris gave a disbelieving smirk and opened his mouth to reply when a chorus of cheers and whistles from the other side of the dance floor cut him off. Curiosity had the crowd moving amorphously in the direction of the noise and Chris and Viktor were dragged along with it. A circle had opened in the middle of the dance floor and through the bodies Viktor caught a glimpse of dark hair and porcelain skin. His heart dropped into his knees.

Viktor pushed through the crowd, attempting to get closer. He could see them now, Yuuri and Phichit. They were walking around on their hands and hi-fiving with their feet, which were as bare as their chests. 

Jostling himself into the front lines of the crowd, Viktor moved to pick up Yuuri’s discarded suite vest and shirt just as the Grand Prix gold medalist began ripping open the buttons of his trousers and making long whooping noises. Every cell phone in the room was poised and ready to capture what happened next.

"Yuuri!" Viktor called, blood flushing to his face, how could he do this again? "Yuuri!" 

Next to him, Chris’s eyes were wide and a horrified smirk lit up his face. He exchanged a look with Viktor that was one part amusement and twenty parts concern.

Viktor stepped into the circle hastily and grabbed Yuuri's wrist just as he was about to pull his briefs off entirely. 

"Yuuri." He whispered furiously, conscious of just how many recording devices were active at that moment, “Don’t you think you should put some clothes on?”

“Viktoorrrrr-uuuuu” Yuuri moaned, leaning the weight of his almost naked body against Viktor “Don’t you think you should take some clothes off?”

Every other year Viktor had gone along with this, enjoyed it and had even fallen for it. For a drunken figure skater who’d come in at the bottom of the leader board and doused his sorrows in champagne. For a man whose body created music, whose soul created flames.

 But not this year.

“Yuuri, please stop, you’re making a fool of yourself again.” He pleaded. Yuuri ripped his arm out of Viktor’s grasp and hurled himself away from him. He was reminded, yet again, of Yuuri, swinging from the big glass chandelier in the banquet hall in Marseille. He remembered being drunk himself, waving his arms around in the air and pretending to try and claw Yuuri down. He remembered the subtle sting of shame that burned when he sobered up in the morning.

“Is that what I’m doing Viktor?” he shouted. “Am I making a fool of myself? Or am I making a fool of you? Is that the problem?” He was standing in the center of the circle now, wearing only his navy briefs and swinging his arms wide as he spoke. A few people had the good grace to move away and stop recording, others stared on, faces twisted, watching a car crash. Viktor could feel it all crumbling down around them. He saw it in the dropped jaws, heard it in the roaring silence. 

 “Yuuri. Please.” 

“Why do you even care Viktor? Why do you CARE? You’re not my coach anymore! You’re not my anything.” Yuuri’s chest heaved as he took in deep, ragged breaths. 

Viktor felt a strange flood of calm wash over him. Calm like he’d never felt before. It was cool like an ocean breeze, silent as dawn. In that moment he felt as if he were alone with Yuuri in space. As if they’d been transported out of a bad dream and into a universe entirely their own.

He looked at Yuuri - face twisted, sweat dripping off his body, fear and shame and embarrassment set in every muscle -  and came crashing back to earth. Viktor extended his arm to hold out Yuuri’s clothes. The younger man snatched them from his hands and shrugged into his dress shirt. 

 “Okay Yuuri. If that’s what you want.” A whisper.

“IT IS.” Yuuri cried through the hair that curtained his face. Viktor stood looking at him for a moment longer. He could feel the stares of the horrified crowd. Of Chris next to him. Of Yuri from somewhere in the room. Of all the people they’d deceived. 

“Okay.” Viktor said. He turned to leave and the crowd parted like frightened fish. Chris’ hand shot out to encircle his forearm in a tight grip, his eyes awash with concern. Viktor lifted the corners of his mouth in a soft smile and shrugged out of his friends grasp, continuing his movement through the shocked crowd.   

The banquet hall was silent as he closed the doors behind him.

  

***

  

St. Petersburg

August, 2017

…

“Just a little more Yuuri… almost, almost, there!” Yuuri let out a grunt and dropped the couch into place. He pulled Viktor down on top of him and they sunk into its leather surface, their limbs a tangle of knots. Yuuri threaded his fingers through Viktor’s hair, cradling the older man’s head into the crook of his neck. Viktor smelt like raspberries and rain.

“Tell me again why we needed this big old couch?” Viktor whispered into his ear, voice on the edge of sleep. The afternoon sun consumed their apartment in its golden glow, bathing them in warmth.  It shone off Viktor’s skin as if he were crystal.

“Because your other one was tiny and designer, not at all comfortable.” He spoke against silver hair. Viktor’s body hummed in response and he snuggled deeper into Yuuri’s side. They’d spent the day moving Yuuri’s things into Viktor’s apartment. Or rather, their apartment.

“Hmm… you’re right. This is so comfortable I’m never moving again.” Viktor purred.

“Never again?” Yuuri laughed. “What about eating or drinking, and who’d take Makkachin out?”

“We can hire a butler, or get Yurio to do it. Imagine how wonderful it’d be, staying here forever. It’s so warm and soft.”

“Yeah, until you need to like… shit or something.” 

Viktor lifted his head to look Yuuri in the eyes, “I guess that would be a problem.” He said, holding Yuuri’s gaze for three seconds before they both dissolved into laughter against each other. If Yuuri could have captured that moment and locked it up in a little bottle for safe keeping, he would have.

When he’d settled, Viktor relaxed his head back onto Yuuri’s chest and sighed, “And Yurio would never agree with being our personal butler anyway.” 

“No chance.” Yuuri said. He looked down at Viktor’s head resting against him. Watched it rise and fall with the movement of his own breathing. A few boxes of Yuuri’s things sat unopened in the corner. There hadn’t been much to unpack since he’d practically been living in Viktor’s apartment for the last year. Yuuri had had a small place of his own a few blocks over from Viktor’s. In hindsight, he had no idea why he’d insisted on his own apartment, he’d hardly spent any time there.

Viktor’s head lifted up to fill Yuuri’s vision. His long eyelashes cast soft shadows across his cheek as he reached up and touched the milky plane of Yuuri’s neck. His skin turned to goosebumps beneath Viktor’s finger tips and a soft breath shuddered out of him. 

“Marry me. Yuuri.”

The look in Viktor’s eyes sent a wave of shivers over Yuuri’s skin. They were deep and blue and unwavering. He wanted nothing more than to dive in and never leave. 

“B…but Viktor. We are getting married.” He stuttered out.

“I know.” Viktor smiled, lighting up his eyes and setting off fireworks in Yuuri’s stomach. “But I realized I never actually asked you. And I wanted to.”

“Say it again.” Yuuri whispered. 

“Will you marry me?” Viktor looked up at him through hooded eyes, a delicious smirk hanging from his lips. The words felt just as good the second time. 

“What was that Viktor?” Yuuri raised an eyebrow in challenge. 

“Marry me. Katsuki Yuuri.” Viktor’s face was so close now, heat radiated from every part of his body that touched Yuuri’s. He knew the look on Viktor’s face meant they were about to stop their talking. But Yuuri was having way too much fun to let it end there.

“I don’t think I caught that, could you say it ag…” Viktor’s lips swallowed up the end of Yuuri’s sentence. His hands travelled along Yuuri’s neck, through his hair and down the side of his face as they kissed. Soft and warm and long. Limbs tangled like flowers in a vase. Yuuri had never been more in love.

“Okay.” He panted, pulling his mouth away from Viktor’s and almost losing his resolve when he saw the flush that dusted  Viktor’s cheek and the pink of his swollen lips. 

 “Let’s get married.” 

 

****

 

Nagoya

December, 2017

…

When Yuuri got back to their hotel room he was not surprised to find all of Viktor’s things gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aahhhh Thank you all so much for the lovely feedback, comments and kudos on the previous chapter! I wasn't expecting such a positive reception so thank you to everyone who took the time to read, comment or kudos the work! 
> 
> Also, thank you for your patience! I wanted to update way sooner but I was travelling overseas and was a little idealistic about how easy it would be to write and publish fic while on holidays. 
> 
> Shout out yet again to Luidi who beta-ed this chapter for me while we were oceans apart <3 
> 
> I'm sorry in advance for how sad and dramatic this chapter is, I know it'll probably break more hearts than the last but just know that I intend to put them back together! (The hearts I mean, but hey, maybe Viktor and Yuuri too ;) ) 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated <3
> 
> UPDATE: Thank you all so much for your patience! I know it's been an ungodly number of months since I updated but just know that I've finished uni for the semester and am working hard to write and publish as much of this story as I can before I go back for second semester! I've planned the whole plot and drafted chapters so that I never have to make you guys wait that long again! Much love <3


	4. A Sparkly New Coach and A Bloody Viktor Nikiforov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Doesn't he feel this pain? Doesn’t he wake up every day and remember? Doesn’t he replay every moment, every conversation as he lies awake at night?”
> 
> In which Yuuri meets with his new coach and Viktor comes crashing down.

When Yuuri got back to their hotel room he was not surprised to find all of Viktor’s things gone. Everything from his shampoo in the shower, his slippers by the door and his wallet on the dresser. It was all gone.

Yuuri dumped his own keys and wallet on his bed side table and noticed a neat pile of yen sitting on a piece of paper. The simple hiragana script on it read, ‘To get you home- V’.

The sight of Viktor’s handwriting, so elegant and stark against the white paper, released a tide of emotions within Yuuri. He remembered teaching the characters to Viktor over many nights, tracing them onto the bare plane of his back when they were both on the cusp of sleep. あいしている

Yuuri picked up the bills from the table and counted them in his hands, it was far too much for a one-hour flight home. Viktor was always doing this. Giving more than he needed to, taking responsibility for everyone around him. Pushing himself to the limit. The resentment Yuuri had denied himself from the start bubbled up from its deep well and he pelted the bills at the wall. They did not sink with the force of his anger like he'd hoped but instead floated and flirted around the room before coming to rest on the ground like confetti. 

He crumpled up the note, tauntingly signed with nothing more than a V, and tossed it onto Viktor's bed. The gold band of his engagement ring flashed with the movement, and Yuuri tore that off, throwing it to land next to the note. Finally, after what felt like years, he collapsed onto his own bed, breathing in the silence of the room and the smell of Viktor's departure. 

The seconds he'd spent staring at those closed banquet doors had been the longest of his life. Half naked and standing in the middle of a crowd of people with gaping jaws and averted gazes. He felt like time would never resume.

It was Phichit’s firm hand on his upper arm that had snapped Yuuri out of his stupor. Phichit’s eyes were a dark pool of concern and confusion, his voice soft as he spoke, “Yuuri. Go after him.”

Phichit’s intervention slid the puzzle pieces in place. Suddenly the words for all the things he wanted to say to Viktor had come to him. All the emotions he’d shoved deep into the corner were lighting up. Yuuri nodded, hastily shrugging into his pants and moving through the crowd that was thinning before him. He shoved out of the banquet doors and sprinted down the hallways. The tiles as cold as the ice he skated against his bare feet.

Barely minutes had passed since Viktor left. Yuuri hoped with all his heart that he’d have time to catch him. 

Rain pelted him immediately as he burst through the doors and out into the car park. His shirt was soaked through within seconds and he searched frantically for Viktor's car, his silver hair, blue eyes. He felt suddenly frantic as it dawned on him that this could be his last chance to see Viktor. To hear his voice speaking to him and not through a screen. How had he screwed up so royally? 

Silver flashed in the corner of his eye and Yuuri whipped around to find it. There was Viktor in his car. Hands and head resting on the wheel, car running but going nowhere.

Viktor’s hunched form and tense hands crushed Yuuri’s heart into pieces, here was the man he was afraid Viktor would become. He was running now, bare feet scraping concrete, so sure he’d make it until Viktor’s head whipped up, eyes meeting Yuri’s directly. They were red, as were his salt stained cheeks. 

Yuuri called out his name, arms flailing for attention. The moment seemed to stretch on forever, the distance between them never changing. That was until Viktor ripped his eyes from Yuuri and started rolling his car forward. Out of its park, onto the highway and out of Yuuri’s life. The car’s lights twinkled their goodbyes through the dark. 

Shaking his head now, Yuuri took in the silence of the room. Twenty-four hours ago, he had been in this exact spot, lying awake as Viktor slept in the bed beside him. They’d been sharing a room during the whole competition, tip toeing around each other and barely speaking. Yuuri tried to spend as much time out of the room as possible, unable to face Viktor for long without their anger and sadness bubbling up and causing an argument. But they couldn’t avoid each other at night and Viktor’s absence now made Yuuri realize how comforting it had been to have Viktor sleeping beside him. In sleep, he was the old Viktor, the man whose eyes had twinkled only for him. This was exactly the outcome he’d been afraid of. Things had blown up in their faces and now Viktor was gone. For good. 

Yuuri tore his eyes away from Viktor’s bed and focused on the notifications that were lighting up his phone. Videos taken by people at the banquet had made their way online and racked up thousands of hits already. Thousands had seen him drunk, naked and making the biggest mistake of his life. 

Yuuri’s chest felt tight and heat curled up his neck. His stomach swirled with that same nausea that he’d felt when the video of him skating Viktor’s program had made its way online. Their relationship ended the same way it began, with Yuuri going viral, but this time Viktor wouldn't show up at the hot springs resort naked and propose himself as Yuuri’s new coach. This time he was alone. 

Yuuri scrolled through the notifications on his lock screen despite himself, catching only glimpses of tweets from fans, concerned texts from friends and missed calls from family. His thumb stopped scrolling when he reached a text written in Japanese from a number he didn't recognize.  

Yuuri, I’ve just arrived back in Japan. I know you’re probably at the banquet at the moment so just give me a call over the next few days and we can talk about how we’re going to proceed from here. Regards, Uehara. 上原 

Uehara Sosuke. The name almost escaped him. Technically this was the man that he’d ‘left’ Viktor for. Yuuri’s new coach was a former figure skater, retired young because of an untreatable injury that left him permanently unable to compete. Celestino had connected them in confidence. Until just recently he was one of only four people to know about it. Now surely the whole world knew. 

Yuuri rolled onto his stomach and groaned loudly into his pillow. Ignoring the way Viktor’s scent lingered on literally anything that got within a three metre radius of him. 

He was almost dreading going home. Dreading the sympathy of his family, dreading the memories that saturated every part of his home in Viktor. 

One thing was for sure. He wouldn’t be crawling out of bed for at least three days after this. 

* * *

 Rome 2017

 _“Oh man I’m not going to leave the bed for three days after that mess.” Yuuri laughed into the cold night, his breath creating a hazy fog in the yellow lit street. He and Viktor were alone now, having left the rest of the group back at the bar chatting to a group of Italian hockey players._

_Viktor was dangerously attractive in all black, a turtle neck sweater tucked into tight jeans, boots and a trench coat. The silver of his belt buckle caught the light at every turn and accentuated his slender hips. Viktor’s cheeks were slightly flushed from the cold. Under the warm yellow light of the street lamps he was unlike anything Yuuri had ever seen before, swishing through the cobblestone streets of a foreign city as if they were his home._

_“So let’s talk about this wedding.” Viktor burst, swinging around to face Yuuri, hands deep in the pockets of his trench coat. Yuuri’s cheeks flushed red, there was a deep warmth sitting in his stomach from all the wine._

_“What is there to talk about? I haven’t won gold yet.” He shrugged, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his coat._

_“Let’s have a huge wedding in the Summer.” Viktor began, arms gesturing broadly in the air, “Oooh by the beach! With five hundred of our closest friends.” He was practically dancing along the cobblestones. His dreams so vivid they conjured up in front of him._

_“Sure, I’ll just ring up all 500 of my closest friends.” Yuuri laughed, turning his body sideways to follow Viktor along the narrow path. Bikes and vespas were parked along each side of the street, lined up in haphazard rows that made it almost impossible to fit both of his feet next to each other as he walked._

_“Okay maybe something small, an ice rink wedding where all the guests have to skate around us and sing as we kiss to consummate our marriage.” Viktor shot him a look over his shoulder that was all twinkling eyes and suggestive eyebrow wiggles. Yuuri snorted and dodged yet another vespa._

_“Or how about a small ceremony in one of our home towns?” Viktor offered, his voice coming back to earth._

_“And by small you mean those five hundred close friends right?” Yuuri laughed again, shaking his head and digging his hands deeper into his pockets._

_Viktor stopped abruptly in front of him and turned, Yuuri almost barreled into him. “Yuuri, what about a small ceremony in Hasetsu in the spring?” Viktor’s hand came up to cup his cheek, his broad thumb stroking a line along Yuri’s jaw that sent shivers all the way to his toes. Yuuri could see the soft sun of spring in Viktor’s eyes, the sakura petals floating like snow around them._

_“Perfect” came his whisper against Viktor’s lips._  

* * *

 Yuuri’s fingers twitched nervously against the porcelain of his coffee mug. It warmed his hands as he stared at its dark, mirrored surface. He felt the warmth of the mug in the space on his forefinger where his ring used to sit. It’d been two weeks since he’d worn it last. Across from him, Uehara Sosuke sat perfectly still. He was a splash of pure indigo ink against the wood of the cafe interior, with his tussled black hair and dark sweater. Yuuri’s heart raced and his eyes flitted involuntarily around the room. Meeting with Sosuke made Yuuri feel like he was going to be caught out at any moment. It made him realize that everything was real and that Viktor was thousands of miles away. 

“Thank you for coming out to meet me. I know things have been hard for you recently so I do apologise if you feel at all rushed.” Sosuke’s voice was smooth and warm, bubbling up from his chest like water from a brook.  Yuuri’s eyes flicked up and caught on the light freckles laid out like a map across Sosuke’s cheeks. 

“Not at all. We have to get right into training I understand, but uhh…thanks... thank you for your concern.” He looked away, fingers fidgeting, searching for comfort on the handle of his mug. He felt unsure of how to be with Sosuke. Was he speaking too formal or not formal enough. Was it okay to call him Sosuke or would he need to call him Uehara-san until they worked their way up to it? He hadn’t had to worry about formalities with Celestino or Viktor. They both made you feel like you were instantly their friend, loud and outgoing, formality wasn't a word either of them knew well. 

Sosuke’s lips formed into a warm smile, his dark eyes softening into a knowing gaze as he looked at Yuuri silently. Uehara Sosuke had been a prominent international figure skater, known for his impeccable discipline and dedication on the ice. Like Yuuri, Sosuke had been skating for years but never made it onto the podium. Before he could live up to his potential Sosuke was permanently injured. He was twenty-two when he fell out of a difficult jump at the Worlds and broke his leg, forcing him to retire. Viktor had talked about Sosuke briefly when his name came up and from the tone of his voice it didn’t sound like they’d been friends. Yuuri’s cheeks flushed at the thought of how Viktor might react to his new coach. 

“You don’t have to be so nervous around me Yuuri. I’m not going to bite.” Sosuke smirked, “And please, call me Sosuke.” Yuuri’s cheeks flushed and his eyes shot to the fern behind Sosuke’s head as he nodded. He was just like Viktor, so easily able to read Yuuri’s emotions. Or maybe Yuuri was just an open book. 

“Since we’ve never worked together before we’re already behind, there’s so much I need to learn about you, so much to learn about each other to work together free from constraints or boundaries. I’ve taken the liberty of reaching out to your former coaches to gather some information about how best to motivate you and…” 

“Wait…” Yuuri’s heart sank as he replayed Sosuke’s words, “You’ve spoken to Viktor?” 

“And Celestino yes.” 

Yuuri’s eyes stung and he found it hard to take even breaths. So Viktor knew who his new coach was. They’d spoken, using real words and their voices. Viktor and Sosuke. 

“What… what did he… how did it… what did he say?” 

Sosuke frowned and met Yuuri’s eyes, “Yuuri. I know that there was a relationship between you and Viktor that went deeper than that of athlete and coach. And I’m truly sorry that it ended the way it did. But from now on I ask that we treat Viktor and your past as professionally as possible…” Sosuke’s hand reached out to gently squeeze Yuuri’s, “it’s the only way you’ll be able to move on.” His eyes were almost the colour of honey, rich and oozing, but flecked with green, like flowers growing between the cracks in the pavement. 

Yuuri stiffened under Sosuke’s grasp, surprised by the contrast of this gesture to the formality of his tone. He looked down at their hands on the table, feeling strangely disconnected from his limbs. No matter how hard Yuuri clung to the past, things were changing. His feelings for Viktor may never change, but his life was moving forward and he needed to move with it. Nodding, he met Sosuke’s gaze.

Sosuke took his hand away from Yuuri’s and sat back in his chair. He continued as if nothing had passed between them, “Both Celestino and Viktor provided invaluable information that will make this transition period so much smoother.” 

Yuuri couldn't stop himself from wondering what Viktor had told him. How his voice had sounded when he’d found out Sosuke was Yuuri’s new coach. What he was thinking when he’d hung up the phone? 

“Yuuri?” Came Sosuke’s voice, “Did you hear me?”

Yuuri blinked a few times, heavily, “Uhh...I’m sorry.. what did you say?” his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.   

“I said that the best way to get to know each other is to skate together. There’s a public rink not too far from here, we could just skate around, get a feel for each other on the ice.” Yuuri wasn’t dressed to skate, nor was he mentally prepared, but something about the way Sosuke was looking at him, all warm eyes and expectations, made Yuuri agree. 

“Oh uhh, sure.. okay.” 

Yuuri didn’t know what to think of the man sitting before him. He was calm and stoic, more guarded than Viktor but with a kindness that made Yuuri feel comfortable.  He could tell that Sosuke really wanted to make this work, and it would, if Yuuri could stop comparing him to Viktor.

* * *

 The Tokyo Mid Town Ice rink sat in amongst the trees and skyscrapers of the bustling city, its surface gleaming from having just been cleaned. Yuuri felt there was no greater magic than skating in the open, with the crisp winter air against his skin and the sun peering through the clouds. It was an oasis in the middle of the city. 

The rink was busy but large, so there was enough room for them to skate around comfortably as they did a few laps to warm up. Yuuri sank into his borrowed skates, gliding along next to Sosuke who was as elegant on the ice as he was off it. 

"My home rink is near here." Sosuke said from Yuuri's side. His nose was pink from the cold of the open air and his head poked out from between two fluffy earmuffs that clamped over his ears.  

"So you live around here then?" Yuuri asked, feeling like a teenager on a first date. 

Sosuke nodded, his eyes scanning wistfully over the city skyline, "I've been in America for a few years though. It's good to be back," he snapped his eyes back to the ice and picked up pace, Yuuri pumped his legs harder to catch up.  

"Feeling warmed up?" He asked swiveling around to face Yuuri, who nodded. 

"Okay. There are a few things I want to do here today. I want to check out your speed, stamina and see your jumps with my own eyes. I've watched pretty much every video of your performances in existence but it's something else to see it in person."  

Yuuri swallowed and looked around at all the people that inhabited the rink. It was a busy Thursday afternoon in Tokyo, scores of children, couples and friends were out enjoying the winter sun. Yuuri would draw attention if he suddenly started jumping and spinning like a professional athlete. "Bu... there are people everywhere," he stuttered out lamely.

"It doesn't matter Yuuri. There are plenty of people practicing here. Plus, it couldn't hurt for people to see you out enjoying yourself." Sosuke’s mouth was firm but his gaze soft. 

Yuuri exhaled, watching his warm breath cloud in front of him in the cool air, "Okay." 

Yuuri pumped his legs to push himself faster along the ice, feeling the rush of adrenaline course through his body as he picked up speed, drawing eyes from the skaters around him. Faster and faster he pushed. He circled Sosuke a few times who was keeping a steady distance but a keen eye. Feeling brave, Yuuri attempted a single jump to test himself. He landed with a satisfied smirk and prepared for something a little bigger, a double maybe. More eyes were on him now as he danced across the ice, its magic coursing through him.

Sosuke was silent as he watched, face stoic. Yuuri felt the sudden need to impress him, to break through the stone of his gaze. He picked up speed and prepared himself for a more difficult jump/spin combination, one he’d used in the sequence that won him gold. Gold. He was a gold medalist. 

Yuuri jumped, and it felt like taking flight, like he could propel himself higher and higher until he left the atmosphere and never had to come back down. Landing, he propelled his body into a spin that had him twirling for what felt like years, until his momentum came to a natural stop. Applause from onlookers sounded around him and Yuuri opened his eyes, blushing deep crimson and ducking his head. He had forgotten his nerves in the adrenaline. Sosuke was leaning against the barrier, he was not clapping but the smirk on his lips and look in his eyes was all the validation Yuuri needed.  

Yes. He was a gold medalist. 

Yuuri breathed in deeply to catch his breath and wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. Sosuke skated over to him, a dark swan on the ice, “How did that feel?” 

A smile slipped across Yuuri’s lips as he let the adrenaline course over him. Even when his world was a mess, there was always this. There was always the ice.   

“Ex.. excuse me. Are you Katsuki Yuuri?” came a small voice from behind him. Yuuri turned around to see a group of young skaters crowded around a middle-aged woman. He recognized the look that gleamed from their eyes as they peered up at him. It was the look he used to admire Viktor with. 

“Sorry to bother you,” the woman spoke again, “but my students are such big fans, we were wondering if we could get a photo with you, if it isn’t too much trouble?” Warmth pooled in Yuuri’s chest. These kids were ripe with hopes and dreams, as he had been. 

“I’d love to,” Yuuri smiled and their faces lit up into grins that threatened to disappear into their ears. Yuuri kneeled to greet them and they skated over to him, bouncing along the ice like adorable little cherubs.

“I’ll take the photo for you if you’d like.” Sosuke offered calmly. His gloved hand was outstretched towards the woman. She blushed bright red and averted her gaze, “They’d like you to be in the photo too Uehara-san, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Sosuke’s face showed the slightest glimpse of surprise at being recognised. He lowered his hand and looked at the woman, smiling, “Sure. And then I’ll take one of you.” Yuuri didn’t think it was possible for someone to blush harder than that woman.

Sosuke took his place on the ice next to Yuuri, threading an arm casually around his shoulders and resting his other hand on the shoulder of the young boy next to him wearing a monkey beanie. They took a few photos with the kids and then spent some time skating with them. Other by standers also approached them for photos once the kids had left.

When they were alone on the bench provided near the skate rental, Sosuke turned to Yuuri. He looked him over calculatingly, skin still flushed from the cold, “This is going to be your best season yet Yuuri.”

And looking at Sosuke then, he really believed it.

* * *

 “Vikkktoooorrrrr its spa time!” Chris’s loud voice echoed off the crisp white walls of his lodge in the mountains. It was a lofty house with minimal walls and maximum windows. Soft afternoon light spilled through to illuminate the white leather couch Viktor had draped himself across as he read from a paperback novel he’d been trying to finish for months.

He looked up at Chris when he appeared and flicked his silver hair out of his face with a shake of his head, it had been too long since he’d had it cut with no one around to nag him about it. 

“Seriously Giacommetti how many times in a day do you need to sit in hot bubbly water?” he teased, wacking at Chris’s shins lightly with his book. 

Chris smirked and dodged Viktor’s playful assault, “As men of the ice Nikiforov, heat is a luxury and I intend to get my fair share of it while I’m off the ice.” 

Viktor laughed distractedly, giving no indication that he was going to join Chris in the spa for a third time that day. His hair was barely dry from the last. 

“Yakov called again,” Chris said, his voice devoid of its usual teasing. “When are you going to go back Viktor? Too long off the ice and you’ll be behind for the whole season.” 

He knew Chris was right, he could feel his muscles going softer, see some of the definition leaving his legs. Viktor was almost relishing these changes to his body, maybe it would change into a body that hadn’t been hurt. That would never happen, he knew. 

“Yuuri’s new coach called me yesterday.” Viktor’s voice was level, his eyes never leaving the page in front of him as he avoided Chris’s question. Sun spilled in from the big bay windows and warmed his back.  

Chris’s eyebrows shot up, “And…? Who was it? What did they want?” 

“Sosuke Uehara.” The name left his lips like ice. 

Chris was silent, his eyebrows retreating from his forehead to rest in a scowl. “Sosuke Uehara?” Viktor nodded. 

“He wanted to talk about my experiences coaching Yuuri. How best to motivate him, what methods of training he responds to best, schedules, all that.”

“And how did it go?” 

Viktor could still hear Sosuke’s voice in his ear. Could feel the chill it instilled in his muscles the moment he heard it down the line. “It went well. I was the perfect professional.” he met Chris’s eyes with a smirk that was not all there. 

“Well I’m glad but I would have told that pretty boy to… Ooh! I just got a message from Phichit!”

“I didn't know the two of you were friends?” Viktor asked, glad for the distraction. He did not want to spend any more time thinking about that man. 

“I wouldn't say we’re ‘friends’” Chris said, wiggling his eyebrows up and down in a suggestive glare. 

“I doubt Phichit has such awful taste.” Viktor teased closing his book and pulling himself up in the seat.

Chris let out a laugh and began to read the message out loud. “Hey Chris, hope you and Viktor are well blah blah blah… getting back on the ice blah blah blah… did you see the… Oh. Nevermind.” Chris’s eyes went wide and he whirled around to practically run back out of the room. 

“Chriiisss.” Viktor called, his voice dangerous. “Chris, what is it?”

“Nothing!” his high-pitched squeak was not at all convincing, “…now’s not the time...” he trailed off. Viktor pulled himself out of his chair and began to close the distance between them, effortlessly matching Chris’s pace. 

“Unless it has something to do with your weird sex life you better tell me what that message says.” 

“Yep that’s it! Just a really steamy sext. Boy that Phichit is a sex demon! Who would’ve thought! Nothing to see here!”

Viktor staked his ground firmly in front of Chris and looked down at him with eyes ablaze. The back of his neck flushed with anxious anticipation, “Chris,” Viktor’s voice rumbled from deep in his chest. If he persisted Chris would cave soon, he was wretched at keeping secrets.

Chris’ heart pounded as he handed Viktor the phone and watched as his eyes pour over the text of the message then freeze. He clicked on the link that Phichit had attached, eyes widening immediately. Chris could almost hear his heart break again right there. 

“Why… would Phichit send this to you?” Viktor’s knuckles were white around the phone. 

“We keep each other up to date sometimes. Just little messages back and forth. He wanted me to know so that I could tell you before you stumbled across it on the internet or something.” 

Viktor continued to squeeze down on the phone, his knuckles going whiter than paper, face like stone.

“Viktor. Viktor!” He pulled the phone from Viktor’s hands before he could do himself any damage. The article Phichit had sent was full of paparazzi pictures of Yuuri and Sosuke at a public ice rink together. The one Viktor had fixated on was a candid shot of the of them kneeling on the ice laughing with a group of kids, their shoulders flush against each other. 

Viktor was breathing deeply. His eyes were red and his face flushed. He was trying to keep at bay the emotion that had been threatening to gush ever since he’d come back to Switzerland with him. Chris hadn’t seen him cry once. 

“Viktor.” He started, voice tender, “You’re the one that walked out. You’ve got to move on now, and you’ve got to accept that Yuuri will too. I know that having Sosuke as his new coach doesn't make things easy but you just have to try and put it out of your mind.” 

Viktor leveled his gaze, his breath returning to normal. “You’re right Chris.” He said, holding his stare for a moment before turning towards the door. 

“Viktor! Where are you going?” 

“To train.”

* * *

 Chris knew Viktor would need time alone now. It was how he coped. He would spin and he would scream and he’d launch high into the air, landing jumps most competitors couldn’t do even at their most focused. Viktor’s body was his outlet, the ice his enabler. Still, Chris couldn’t help himself from checking in on him after an hour had passed. 

He watched silently from the door to the private rink. Viktor moved like magic across the ice, dancing with elegance even when all he felt was rage. He stayed there watching for what felt like hours but was only minutes before Viktor launched himself into a jump with enough momentum to be a quad. Chris watched his body spin once, twice three times, but his rotation was off and on the fourth spin he came tumbling down on the ice, his body landing in a heap. Chris’ concern grew when the crumpled figure didn’t get back up.

Chris ran towards him like a child to a bird that had just fallen out of a tree. Viktor pulled himself up onto his knees, oblivious to the sound of Chris’s approach. Chris watched as if in slow motion as Viktor raised his fist above his head and brought it down onto the ice. Blood ruptured from his knuckles on the second punch and his name burst from Chris’s chest. 

“VIKTOR.” The silver man did not even blink. Chris slipped multiple times as he made his way over to his friend of ten years. 

“Viktor!” Chris had never seen him like this. Down on his knees punching into the ice with bleeding fists. “Viktor, stop!” He shouted, “You’re hurting yourself!” Reaching him, Chris caught Viktor’s arms in both hands and pulled the older man to him. Viktor collapsed against his chest, his tears soaking through Chris’s shirt instantly. Viktor’s pained cries echoed across the ice. Chris stroked one hand through Viktor’s hair, smoothing it away from his face in gentle pats intended to soothe. 

Viktor’s wails turned into quiet sobs as Chris held him tight to his chest. This was the result of months of fatigue, of overwork, of heartbreak. They’d seen each other through break ups before, but never had he seen Viktor so tormented.

“How can he be happy.” Came Viktor’s panicked voice, it clawed its way out of his chest in great heaves. “How can he go out in the world and exist and interact with other people as if nothing happened?” 

“Viktor,” Chris breathed, concern and anger warring inside him, “Don’t you want Yuuri to be happy?” 

Viktor’s hysterical sobbing only continued, “I want him to be happy with ME, Chris. Not with that asshole Uehara,” Viktor spat his name like venom, “We were getting MARRIED god damnit. We were going to be together forever.” his voice rose in a childlike yell as he pushed Chris off him, whose hands whipped out to constrain Viktor’s arms to stop him from hurting himself further. 

“Uehara is just his coach. Yes, he was shitty in the past but it’s been years Viktor. He wouldn’t do that to Yuuri now.” Chris tried his best to play the role of rationalizer, but it only served to work Viktor up more.    

“Doesn't he feel this pain?” he heaved, “Doesn’t he wake up every day and remember? Doesn’t he replay every moment, every conversation as he lies awake at night?” Viktor’s voice was frantic as months of composure tore its way out of him.

“Doesn’t he feel THIS???” Viktor cried, freeing his hand from Chris’s and slamming his fist down on the ice. A sickening crack echoed in Chris’s ears and Viktor’s wailing ceased. His other hand whipped up to cradle it as he met Chris’s eyes. Reality had woken Viktor and he found his sanity in the silence. 

“Viktor.” His voice was tender, shaky. Tears rolled down Chris’ cheeks before he even knew they were there. He reached out to gently inspect the potentially broken hand. 

“Chris.” Viktor was crying again too, “What am I doing?”

“Let’s get you to a hospital, Viktor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! 
> 
> Thank you so so much for your patience over these last few months and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update! Life just got in the way but I now have a concrete plan for this fic and a few chapters already drafted so I really hope I won't have to keep you all waiting too long again!
> 
> Thank you also for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks on the chapters so far, they really keep me motivated and make me feel all warm and fuzzy <3
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this extra long chapter and I would love to hear what you thought, especially about Sosuke! I tried to avoid using an original character but there isn't someone existing in the YOI universe that I could plausibly see fitting the role I needed to be filled. So I've tried to flesh him out as much as possible and he's become a lil bit precious to me :) 
> 
> And as always thank you x a million to my beta Luidi, who really helped me realise the character of Sosuke and for just being awesome! 
> 
> Hope your'e having a wonderful week! <3


	5. An Encounter In The Green Room and A Haircut Long Overdue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “As professionals, we have to be aware of that fine balance between life and work. As artists, we almost have to do away with it entirely and let life bleed into our art which can be beautiful or it can be disastrous.”
> 
> In which Viktor and Yuuri meet again after three months of silence and Sosuke opens up.

**3 MONTHS LATER**

**Milano, Italy**

“Mr. Katsuki, you’re up next.” 

Yuuri nodded at the stage assistant, adjusting his jacket and smoothing his hair back from his face. This was his first interview of the competition and he wasn't feeling entirely ready for it, having only walked off a plane three hours ago. He breathed in deeply and exhaled through his mouth, trying to shake out the fatigue that clung to his bones.

Yuuri had been descended on by dozens of grinning faces and expectant notepads as he’d made his way into the building. Skaters from all different categories came up to talk to him, reporters asked questions, friends tried to catch up. The attention, while flattering, was not what he was used to, and Yuuri found himself almost wishing for the anonymity that his presence once held.

“Yuuri.” He felt a firm hand on his upper arm and for a moment he was frozen with the fear of turning around and finding silver hair and cold blue eyes. 

“Oh, Sosuke! I thought you went to check us into the hotel?” Was that his heart sinking or relief that coursed over him? 

Sosuke wasn’t a very good flier, it was written in the deep circles under his eyes and the pale tinge of sickness that still lingered on his face. 

“I wanted to be here for you. It’s your first official appearance since the Grand Prix so I should be here.” 

Yuuri grimaced, taking in the flush that started at Sosuke’s cheeks and curled down his neck, “You should be resting, you’ll be lucky not to end up with a fever.” 

“Yuuri,” Sosuke said, catching Yuuri’s elbows in his hands and leaning in to him. “I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.” 

 _I said I’m_ FINE _Yuuri. I’m_ fine _. Can we please stop discussing my eventual burning into the ground and just enjoy the rest of the meal?_

Yuuri breathed in deeply, “Okay, but you should go sit at least.” 

Sosuke nodded and gave his elbow a squeeze before taking his leave in the direction of the audience. Mere seconds later, Yuuri was signaled for his turn. 

Walking on stage, Yuuri saw the audience vast and sprawling in front of him. People were crammed into the room like a million spiders on a single web. Flashes went off all around him and reporters held their microphones up in the air like conductors before a concerto. 

“Yuuri Katsuki everyone! Thank you for joining us today.” Came the voice of the interviewer as he sat down across from her. 

“Thank you for having me.” His voice sounded smoother than he’d though it would, considering the nerves that shook his hands. 

“It’s our pleasure. So tell us, how are you feeling in the lead up to the Worlds, you’ve certainly been training hard, as we’ve all seen from the training videos your coach has been posting.” 

Yuuri let out a nervous laugh, “I’m feeling pretty confident. Physically I feel ready, it’s just the mind you have to worry about as you get closer to the event.”  

“And how are you finding it with your new coach Sosuke Uehara?”  

Yuuri hesitated before speaking, his eyes flicked out to survey the audience. While he saw plenty of grey, there was no silver. 

“We’re getting along well and working hard together. We share our visions for the routines and have a good culture of feedback so I’m feeling confident about the competition ahead.”  

They’d been working hard, harder than he ever had. Pushing his body further and further so he didn't have to spend time with his thoughts. They’d trained in Tokyo at Sosuke’s home rink. Yuuri told his parents it was because of the facilities, but spending time in Hasetsu was just too painful. He needed a new start and that meant a new rink - where the ice was cleaned every few hours and bottled water was easier to come across than tap water. The rink was fancy and the ice was smooth. But it was no Hasetsu and he’d longed- many times over the last few months- for the quiet of his home town. 

As the questions continued, Yuuri found himself searching for Sosuke’s face in the crowd. He was sitting a few rows back, his eyes were tired, but he gave a slow, confident nod that slowed Yuuri’s racing pulse, reminding him to breath. 

“Thank you for your time Yuuri. Please join me in thanking Yuuri once again.” 

Yuuri waved and bowed to the crowd before walking off. In the wings, he was handed a glass of water and a towel, for sweat apparently. The interviewers voice still boomed from the stage, “We’ve reached our last guest for today. After a short break, we’ll finish up todays interviews with the men’s division of the 2018 Figure Skating World Championships by welcoming Viktor Nikiforov to the stage!” 

Yuuri froze, the glass of water in his hand almost slipping from his grasp. If Viktor was up next that meant he was… 

Right there, in the green room, leaning against the arm of a plush leather couch. His head was tilted towards the ground, eyes closed. He was dressed in a charcoal suit, as he had been the last time Yuuri saw him. His favourite suit. But the Viktor before him was… different. There was a sternness to the set of his jaw that Yuuri recalled seeing only when Viktor was stressed or upset. His hair was longer, reaching past his jaw to tickle at his neck. Viktor was always forgetting to book into the hairdresser. It probably hadn’t been cut in months. He saw shadows of a younger Viktor in the new length of his hair, but there were barely traces of the Viktor he’d known. 

Yuuri stood frozen, unsure of what to do with himself. Viktor’s eyes were closed but they’d open if Yuuri made to leave. He felt like his heartbeat filled the room, could Viktor hear his ragged breathing? 

The older man’s head tilted up, his hair falling away from his face. Yuuri swallowed and opened his mouth, hoping it would know what words to say when Viktor opened his eyes and found him standing there staring. 

Just as Viktor’s eyes fluttered open… 

“Yuuri. Well don… Oh. Viktor.” Sosuke stopped dead in his tracks, his voice registering surprise.  

“Uehara.” Viktor straightened from his position against the couch. His voice was rough, the way Yuuri remembered it first thing in the morning or if he’d had to switch between languages. 

“It’s… good to see you Viktor. How long has it been?” He spoke in English, the default language at events like this. Sosuke took a step toward him, extending his right hand out to shake. He was making an effort, Yuuri just hoped he could count on Viktor to do the same.   

Viktor’s eyes shot briefly to his own right hand tucked up into his suit jacket and then back to Sosuke’s. For a moment, Yuuri was afraid Viktor would refuse, but his hand lifted slowly from his side to reveal a bandage Yuuri hadn’t noticed before.

“Oh, my apologies, I didn’t realise you were hurt.” 

“It’s fine.” Viktor said, taking Sosuke’s hand and smiling in a way that didn't reach his eyes. 

“Viktor they’ll be ready for you on stage in three minutes.” The stage assistant said, his eyes surveying the three of them with obvious intrigue. 

“We better get going, good luck out there Viktor.” Sosuke’s head dipped forward in a bow and Viktor returned it, his long hair falling from where he’d tucked it behind his ear. Yuuri opened his mouth, unsure of whether to say anything into the stifling silence between them. His decision was made when Viktor turned without a glance in his direction and made his way to the wings of the stage. 

At the door, Yuuri turned back to see Viktor unravelling the bandage from his hand and shoving it into his pocket. He stretched the hand a few times and a wince spasmed across his face. Viktor was always so careful before competitions, how had he managed to hurt himself like that? He left the room before Viktor could catch him peering in on his private moment. 

“Are you okay?” Were the first words out of Sosuke’s mouth as they walked down the hall. 

“Yeah… I … we didn't talk. He didn't even look at me.” 

“It’s probably for the best.” Sosuke said, voice level, “I wonder what he did to his hand?” 

Seeing Viktor had been harder than he thought it would. He’d changed so much in such a short time that Yuuri wasn’t sure he was even the same man he’d known. The hair, the cold eyes, the hand. The silence. He didn’t know where Viktor had been for the last three months let alone what he’d been doing. While Sosuke had been keeping the world up to date on their training via social media, Viktor hadn’t said a word, his accounts lying inactive for months. 

“Yuuri?” Sosuke’s voice broke through his contemplation. 

“Unn..? Sorry, what did you say?”

“Do you want to watch Viktor’s interview.” 

Yuuri exhaled deeply through his nose, contemplating Sosuke’s question. Like the rest of the world, he was curious about where Viktor had been these past few months and what he’d been doing. But more than anything, he just wanted to hear Viktor’s voice, to look at the face that he used to wake up to every morning.

“Sure... yeah.” 

They sat at the back of the room he had just stood in front of. Since the world hadn’t heard a peep from Viktor since what happened at the banquet had gone viral, anticipation hung so heavy in the air that Yuuri could feel it resting on his shoulders. Hundreds of bodies were crammed into sleek fold out seats around him, their limbs pushed up against each other in the tight space. Beneath the stage was a sea of reporters with pens poised over notepads and fingers ready to flick on recorders.  

Viktor’s sudden presence on stage lit a spark that flurried through the air. Yuuri could almost see it, bright and warm even now, an electric shock that jolted the room out of its silence. Pens scratched across paper, recorders were switched on and throats were cleared. The room leaned forward in their seats.  

Yuuri wished he were sitting closer. So that he could see Viktor’s face, to look at him now without fear that he would look back. 

“Welcome Mr. Nikiforov. We understand you’ve been on a bit of a public hiatus so we’re honoured to have you here.” 

“Honoured to be here. Thank you.” his smooth voice rolled out of the speakers with near perfect clarity. 

“So Viktor. I’m sure everyone is dying to know what you’ve been up to these last few months. You’re looking incredible, and is that a tan??” 

Viktor laughed modestly and crossed one leg over the other. “I’ve mostly been training. I spent a lot of time in Switzerland after the Grand Prix so maybe that’s where the tan came from.” The room laughed and Yuuri’s muscles relaxed at the glimpse of the playful Viktor he knew.

“Switzerland?” The interviewer questioned in echo of Yuuri’s thoughts. “Did our own Chris Giacometti make an appearance in your holiday?” 

“He did, but I can assure you it was no holiday. We spent most of our time training.” So Viktor had been in Switzerland. With Chris. Flames of jealousy lapped at Yuuri’s heels, coaxing him to remember parts of that night he’d rather forget. Chris’s hand on Viktor’s arm, his concerned voice calling out as Viktor walked away. He could do with forgetting all of it.

“It sounds like you’ve been busy. I’m sure that you have a lot more time to focus on yourself now that you’re not coaching and competing?” 

Yuuri saw Viktor’s jaw clench, from frustration or confrontation he wasn’t sure, “Yes I do. Such is the nature of taking on less commitments.” His voice came out sharp, causing murmurs from the people around Yuuri. The world wasn’t used to seeing Viktor Nikiforov this way.

“Is there anything you can tell us about the progression of your routines for this competition? What’s been inspiring you recently?” the interviewer was swift to change the subject. 

Viktor looked down at his hands and bit into his lip, he seemed to be considering his words carefully.  

“As always I can’t give too much away. I want the audience to be surprised by the routines, but thematically my skates for this competition are about… new beginnings… the new beginnings that are borne from significant loss.” 

Yuuri took in a shaky breath, his cheeks flushing red. The familiar swirling pit of guilt opened in his stomach and his hands dampened with sweat. 

“Wow, it sounds like you’ll be grappling with some difficult emotions out there on the ice. How do you separate emotion from competition when you’re preparing for something like this?” 

“As professionals, we have to be aware of that fine balance between life and work. As artists, we almost have to do away with it entirely and let life bleed into our art which can be beautiful or it can be disastrous. But I’m… I’m still struggling with that bit so I’ll get back to you on that one.” The audience let out a sleepy laugh, entranced by Viktor and his musings. Yuuri had forgotten just how charming he could be. 

“How do you feel about Yuuri Katsuki’s new coach given your past… relationship?” The interviewer asked tentatively. Viktor stiffened visibly in his seat. Had he not told them this topic was off limits? 

“God, do they have no shame.” Sosuke whispered. “We can leave if you want.” 

Yuuri shook his head, unable to focus on Sosuke. These were the kind of things he wanted to hear from Viktor in private. The kind of conversation they should have had instead of spending three months on opposite sides of the ocean. The kind of conversation they would have had, if Viktor hadn’t driven away that night. 

Anger and guilt warred inside Yuuri. Yes, he had been the one to make the decision that led to this, but Viktor had walked away. He hadn’t even tried to understand. 

Viktor’s eyes fluttered to his lap again and Yuuri watched the rise and fall of his chest with anticipation. 

“I’m… happy for him. Its what’s best for Yuuri moving forward with his career and it will be an honour to compete against him again in this competition.” 

Yuuri’s eyes prickled with the threat of tears. Viktor’s words were a mask of professionalism, a haphazard façade he could see right through. 

Sosuke reached out his hand to rest on Yuuri’s knee, where it stayed until Viktor was thanked, madly applauded and ushered off stage. The gazes of the people around them hung heavy on Yuuri’s shoulders as they left the room. Eyes flittered away from his when he looked up, people shuffled out of his way. He supposed this was the kind of drama Viktor had been wanting to avoid when he suggested the little charade they’d played at the banquet those months ago. 

“Yuuri, are you okay?” Sosuke’s voice grumbled from his side somewhat awkwardly, they’d never idled long on the topic of Viktor or of any hard emotion really. 

“I’m fine." Yuuri dismissed, not wanting to idle on the topic of Viktor, "But how about you, are you feeling any better?” Sosuke’s complexion had cleared but the skin beneath his eyes was still hollow. 

“I’m feeling a lot better. Actually, I was thinking we could go out for a drink to celebrate our safe arrival.” 

“Oh, okay, sure.” Yuuri let out, surprised at Sosuke’s suggestion. They had been keeping their relationship formal while they were training and hadn’t spent a lot of time together off the ice. “Have anywhere in mind?”

“I know a place.”  

* * *

 The bar was warm and softly lit. It’s décor consisting of chunky wood and candles held up in the wax of candles that had come before them. A guitarist sat in the corner crooning out covers of English songs and ballads in her native Italian.

Yuuri’s eyelids were heavy and his cheeks flushed with the warmth from his second drink. Sosuke sat across from him, a glass of dark red swirling in his hand.

“This place is so cozy. Have you been here before?” 

Sosuke scanned the room, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth slightly, he nodded, “Many times. I met an ex-partner here actually.” 

“Oh?” Yuuri wasn’t one to pry into private lives, especially given that Sosuke never gave up much about his. In the three months, they’d known each other he knew less about Sosuke than he’d known about Viktor in two weeks. From their time together he’d observed traits of Sosuke’s personality, the way he liked his coffee, how he reflected deeply before speaking or how his personality hardened when he put on a pair of skates. Sosuke was a mystery Yuuri didn’t think he’d ever find the answer to. 

“That was a long time ago though. Just after I stopped skating.” There was no melancholy in his voice, just the cool nonchalance Yuuri had come to expect. 

Feeling bold from the champagne that buzzed in his stomach and tickled along his skin and the three glasses of red his coach had consumed, Yuuri attempted to dip one toe into the pool of Sosuke’s past, “So… what did you do after you stopped skating?” 

Sosuke contemplated for a long moment, “I’m not going to lie and say I got straight back up again and continued on with my life like nothing happened. It was a deeply traumatizing event, physically and mentally. I turned to a lot of the vices people turn to when something like that happens to them but I did eventually start getting back out there.” 

Yuuri was silent as he listened, giving Sosuke the time to shift through his thoughts. “I spent a lot of time in the US where my mother is from.” That's where he got those green eyes. “I fell in love and out, I coached young then competitive skaters, spent some time travelling and some more time coaching and now here I am.” Sosuke downed the rest of his wine and signaled to a waiter, he ordered another round for both of them in near perfect Italian. 

“When did you learn Italian?” Yuuri asked, eager to soak up more about the enigma in front of him. 

“When I was with the ex I mentioned. It was difficult at first because they only spoke Italian and a little bit of English and I spoke Japanese and English, but they were a good teacher. Verbal communication wasn’t a big deal for us in the beginning anyway.” He smirked into his glass before drinking deeply. 

Yuuri didn’t know what to make of what he was hearing. The more information that spilled from Sosuke’s intoxicated lips, the more confused Yuuri became. Until now, he’d seen Sosuke as some stoic being who had long ago closed the doors on his past. 

Noticing he’d been silent for a beat too long, Yuuri spoke, “So your mother’s from the US? Is your dad Japanese?” 

“Unn, my mother was in college when they met. She was obsessed with the culture so went to study in Tokyo where she met my dad. They’re divorced now and living in separate countries so Christmas is a little difficult.”  Sosuke huffed out a loose laugh, Yuuri had never seen him like this. Sosuke’s laugh transformed his face, Yuuri noticed. It lit up his eyes and relaxed his jaw.

“What about you, have you been to Italy before?” Sosuke asked, the ghost of a smirk still dancing on his lips. 

 _“Yuuri, what about a small ceremony in Hasetsu in the spring?”_

“Once. Early last year, but only to Rome. There was a competition close by so a few of us decided to go when it ended.” Yuuri swallowed, it would be springtime in Japan soon.

Sosuke’s smile faltered, as if he could see the memory playing out on Yuuri’s face. His hand reached forward across the table, as it had all those months ago, to grasp Yuuri’s. This time his thumb traced Yuuri’s knuckles, his touch so firm and sure that it made Yuuri’s heart pound and his stomach tingle with confusion. He looked up into Sosuke’s eyes, their warmth oozed like honey. 

His voice rumbled from deep in his chest, “You can talk about him if you want to Yuuri. I was stupid to suggest that we treat this situation professionally. I’d like to think of us as friends now and your happiness is what’s important, so if you need to talk, I’m here.”

“Sosuke?” Yuuri squeaked, surprised at their sudden proximity. Everything in his being told him to pull away, but Sosuke’s grip was firm and Yuuri’s head was clouded from the alcohol.

A chorus of sharp coughs sounded from above them, Yuuri jumped back and looked up into the wide eyes of the group of world famous figure skaters he was friends with. Phichit, Chris, Yuri, Otabek, JJ, Emil, Michel and even Seung-Gil. And there, in the back standing two metres behind them, was Viktor, looking anywhere but at him.

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https://leeekay.tumblr.com - new writing side blog! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Thank you so much for all your comments, kudos and feedback on the last chapter! I was overwhelmed by the reaction to it and it is seriously so motivating to see you all interacting with the work! 
> 
> This chapter is a little shorter than the last but I do hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Thanks a million to my beta Luidi who stops me from making silly character decisions and is always there to talk it out with me <3
> 
> Hope you all have a fab day and thanks for reading! <3
> 
> EDIT: I've started a side blog for my writing!!!! but because I'm still a noob I couldn't put the link here and had to put it at the bottom of the chapter. I'm not sure what's going to come out of this blog but hopefully I'll be able to post updates about this fic, maybe do some requests and chat to you lovely people! Check it out if you so fancy!


	6. A Night On The Town and A Very Bad Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t you want me, baby?” 
> 
> In which Viktor loosens up and Yuuri makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended listening for this chapter: 'Don't You Want Me Baby' - The Human League

Viktor looked out over the sparkling city. He drew a deep breath and watched his warm breath pool in front of him in a blanket of haze that obscured the buildings in front of him. It was cold on the balcony, the early days of spring still echoed with the chill of winter during the nights. The icy railing dug into his hips as he leant heavily against it. It was moments like this that he both loved and hated travelling in the cold all the time. He loved the way the ice transformed cities, their interiors lighting up to battle the frost of the outside world. But just as much as he loved it, he longed to see the world in the sun.

He flexed his bandaged hand, feeling the cold deep in the bones that hadn’t entirely repaired. They would have, if Viktor hadn’t ignored the injury completely and pushed himself so damn hard. Yakov was disappointed but understanding the first time. The second time however, he’d been furious. 

Viktor closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as he thought back to that afternoon. He’d watched and listened from the green room as Yuuri sat on stage gushing about how well he was getting along with his new coach. Yuuri’s muscles had changed, become leaner. He seemed taller, like the months they’d spent apart had somehow lengthened him. He was dressed in a tight grey t-shirt and a black suede bomber jacket, his hair slicked back away from his face like it had been the night of the banquet. They had both done their fair share of changing.   

Sosuke himself looked the same as he had all those years ago when they skated against each other. He had the same smug grin, tussled hair and arrogant gait that Viktor remembered.

Viktor had meant what he said on stage. As an ex-coach, he was happy for Yuuri, a few months of distance from the situation had provided him with enough hindsight to see that yes, this was best for Yuuri’s career moving forward. But as the ex-love-of-his-life it was torture to see him with Sosuke, whose arrogance and insidious influence had been notorious before he’d retired from figure skating. They had clashed numerous times at events all around the world on and off the ice, keeping as much distance from each other as possible.

Viktor’s phone buzzed from the pocket of his beige trench coat, waking him from thoughts of Yuuri and Sosuke. Chris’s name and beaming face lit up the screen. 

“Are you decent?” His thick Swiss accent came from down the line. 

“Decent? Uhh yes, wh…” three sharp knocks rang against the door inside his hotel room. “Hold on Chris.” He slid the door to the balcony closed behind him, and haphazardly put out his cigarette in the ash tray on the tiny table that hotels seem obliged to include in a room no matter how small it is.   

He tucked the phone into the crook between his shoulder and his ear, quickly unravelling the bandage from his right hand in case it was someone he didn’t want to know about it, which was anyone really. Opening the door, he was bombarded with smiling faces and arms full of liquor, their unified call of ‘Surprise’ echoed down the hallway. Chris smirked at Viktor and hung up the phone, tossing it down on Viktor’s bed and pulling him into a tight hug as the others filed in behind him. Yuri P was the last to slink in, his famous scowl resting firmly in place.

“What are you all doing here?” Viktor laughed into Chris’s neck. The familiar scent of his longtime friend (cologne and something a little bodily) soothed Viktor instantly. Around the room, Phichit busied himself at the small stereo that looked like it was from the 90’s, giggling at it like a child, an open bottle of tequila clutched in his hand. JJ was rummaging around for glasses, talking loudly about how small Viktor’s room was compared to his. Yuri sat scowling on Viktor’s bed, behind him, Otabek looked out at the view. Emil, Michel and Seung Gil were there also, although looking much less at ease in Viktor’s relatively small hotel room. For so long he’d avoided making connections with the other skaters, he’d train, compete, go home and repeat. That was until Yuuri had come along and shone a light in the darkest corners of his life. 

“Shouldn’t we all be training?” Viktor laughed to the room, not entirely sure what was going on. 

“Why? Do you need it Viktor?” JJ winked, pouring himself a drink from a bottle shaped like a skull.

Viktor rolled his eyes, narrowing them in JJ’s direction as he held out his glass, JJ obligingly poured. Taking a swig, Viktor spluttered, “What the hell is in there?”

“Everything.” Emil replied, his eyes wide in mock horror as he drank from his own glass of mystery liquid. Viktor huffed out a laugh and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, holding his glass out for another. If he was going to play this part he would have to be entirely less sober to do so.

Phichit had finally gotten the music working and was pumping his fist in the air sloppily. His other held his phone open to snapchat, “I should send this to Yuuri!” he announced, his voice slurring, “Where is he anyway?” 

Yuuri’s name felt like lead in his limbs. Viktor’s eyes moved to Chris, who was already looking at him with panic set in his jaw. He shot Phichit a fierce look and Phichit blushed, bringing his hand up to the back of his head and grimacing. 

“He wasn’t in his room when I went to recruit him for tonight’s charades, maybe he’s traini…”

“I saw him leave with Uehara. It didn’t look like they were going to train.” Yuri’s voice came from the bed where he sat like a statue. His arms crossed over his chest and his eyes were shooting daggers at Viktor. He’d hardly seen Yuri since their last competition. Their training schedules didn’t match up when he got back to Russia and when they did see each other the younger man barely spoke.

Viktor returned Yuri’s intense gaze. His eyebrows furrowing in a question.

“Let’s do SHOTS!” Phichit squealed into the tension. It was such an obvious bid to defuse the situation that Viktor almost laughed. He tore his gaze away from Yuri, whose eyes followed him with a deep-set malice that Viktor didn’t understand. 

“Got any lime Viktor?” Phichit smiled at him shyly. His eyes sparkled with such brightness that Viktor couldn't look away. Viktor had hurt his best friend, had left him in the rain, yet here Phichit was smiling up at him without a hint of malice. 

He could have fun tonight, if he let himself.

“Fresh out.” Viktor smirked, fluffing the smaller man’s hair. Phichit’s laugh was like a child’s, it bubbled up from his belly and shook his whole body. The sound, so clear and pure, obliterated some of the tension Viktor had been holding onto. 

Shots were pushed into their hands and after a countdown everyone in the room slammed back their drinks. Viktor threw his arms around Chris and Phichit, their warmth against him made him release how cold he’d been, “So what else is in store for tonight?” he asked, feeling a lightness in his head that could only be caused by friends and alcohol.

“Okay so here’s the plan.” Chris began, leaning into Viktor and lowering his voice as if it were top secret. “This is the pregame. Then we’ll move onto a bar. Then maybe another and then, the pies de resistance – karaoke!” Chris and Phichit flung their arms up in unison. Grabbing onto Viktor and spinning him around in a dizzying dance.

“Is there even anywhere to do karaoke in Milan?” he laughed. 

“Oh yes there is!”

 _“I bet you they won’t have the song Yuuri!” Viktor laughed, watching him paw frantically across the touch screen mounted to the wall of their booth._

_“Oh, but yes they do.” Yuuri’s eyes lit up and he turned to Viktor with a smirk, his hips swinging slightly from side to side as heavy bass notes filled the room._

_Viktor laughed as Yuuri began mouthing the words to some trashy old pop song Viktor’d never heard into the microphone dramatically. Yuuri ran a hand through his hair and then pointed the microphone at Viktor._

_“You know you’re supposed to actually sing at karaoke.” He chuckled, his voice coming out over the speakers. Yuuri’s cheeks were flushed red and his tight pants were riding lower on his waist than usual. He had dragged Viktor to this stingy karaoke bar after their practice, probably the only one in Hasetsu, preaching something about ‘loosening up’ at him._

_Yuuri was practically on top of him now, wriggling his body and singing into the microphone half in Japanese and half in English, it was the most fascinating part of seeing Yuuri drunk. Well, besides the nudity._

_“Don’t ever leave me.” Yuuri’s voice was inches from his ear. Viktor’s heart pounded like a bird thrashing in a cage._

_“Yuuri?”_

_Yuuri pulled away, voice slurring into the microphone “Don’t ever leave me babbbbyyyyyy, leave… donnnntttt… babyyyyyy”_

_Viktor huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes at the drunken beauty before him, he drew a shaky hand through his silver hair and picked up the other microphone._

“Alright kids, it’s time for part two!” Chris’s voice jolted Viktor back to the present. 

* * *

 The bar Chris had chosen to kick off their night was uncharacteristically cozy. There was no deafening electronic music or light up cages in which to dance, as Viktor had become accustomed to on nights out with Chris. Instead it was candle lit and quiet, filled mostly with couples and small groups enjoying an intimate drink on a cold night. 

“Isn’t this place a bit fancy for you Giacometti?” JJ quipped, “I mean no one’s doing body shots and everyone’s seated.” 

“I am a man of class, Jean-Jacques Leroy.” Chris purred, turning on JJ with a look that said he was about to rip into him, when his eyes widened, all insults dying on his tongue. The whole group turned in the direction of Chris’s gaze like a fleet of synchronized swimmers. Viktor was the last to turn around, his eyes meeting apologetically with the staff behind the bar. Such a big group was sure to be a disturbance in a place like this.

His breath caught in his throat as he saw, for the second time that day, the dark-haired dork he was once engaged to. Yuuri and Sosuke were sitting against a window, their faces lit from beneath by candle light only inches away from each other. Viktor’s gaze flicked down to the table, where Sosuke’s hand lay on top of Yuuri’s. Anger surged through Viktor’s body, lighting his skin on fire and rooting him to the spot. His mind played out a montage of interactions before him- Yuuri and Sosuke skating together, training together, getting closer. Sosuke making the first move. Subtle touches, celebratory hugs. Flushed skin, bright eyes. 

Viktor could only watch as Chris stalked shamelessly over to their table, flanked on either side by the ridiculously large group of world famous figure skaters he’d managed to band together for this night on the town. 

“Yuuri…” Chris’ voice was saccharine sweet, “What a surprise to see you here.” Yuuri jumped back, pulling his hand from Sosuke’s and sweeping his wide eyes over the group of skaters in alarm. Viktor couldn't bring himself to look directly at either of them.

“Guys…” Yuuri began, “What are you all doing here?” He looked like a child who’d been caught with his hand in a cookie jar. Or a Sosuke Uehara. 

“This is stop two of our pre-Worlds party night!” Phichit announced, laying his arm across Yuuri’s shoulders and jostling him to his side. “We checked your room to see if you guys wanted to come with but you weren’t there. Why don't you join us now?” Phichit’s grin was genuine. Either he didn’t understand the implications of the position they’d found the pair in, or was choosing to ignore it.  

Yuuri grimaced, laughing awkwardly as they were stared down at by the group of towering men that still surrounded their table. Sosuke appeared completely calm as he sipped from a glass of red. God he looked like an asshole without even trying. 

“I don’t thin…” 

“We should Yuuri, it might be…amusing.” Sosuke cut him off. Viktor hated the way Yuuri’s name sounded coming from Sosuke’s mouth. His accent perfectly navigating the name in a decree of ownership. Both he and Yuuri spoke English fluently, as they all did, but Viktor had heard them talking in their native language in the green room that afternoon, catching pieces of their conversation that he remembered from his months of studying. Even though they could use English to communicate, Viktor had always been aware of the thin language barrier that separated he and Yuuri. Neither of them able to speak their native language fluently to the other, despite trying to teach each other. Viktor envied Sosuke the language they shared.  

Beside him, Chris snickered at Sosuke’s choice of wording, “Asshole” he whispered in Russian just loud enough that Viktor could hear. His eyes flashed a warning at Chris but it did little to deter the man’s devilish grin.

“Yes, please do join us” Chris said, recovering. He squeezed Yuuri’s shoulder and looked down at him with fluttering eyelashes.

“Okay…” Yuuri agreed shakily. Tension was set into every line of his body, it was practically rolling off him in waves as the group of skaters surrounded him. Yuuri met Viktor’s eyes then for the first time in months, before Viktor had time to avert his gaze and pretend he hadn’t been looking. Dread pooled in Viktor’s stomach as he caught the blankness of Yuuri’s eyes. He hoped it was a façade. But knew he deserved it. 

“Can we get out of here?” Yuri growled from Otabek’s side, “This dump is tiny.” 

 “Yeah, feels like we’re on top of each other in here” JJ winked to no one in particular, causing another growl from Yuri who was not amused by anything that came out of the Canadian man’s big mouth.

Chris surveyed the small bar and sighed his defeat when he couldn't find a single table big enough to fit them all, “Fine. Let’s go then.”  

The group shuffled out around Viktor who found himself still unable to move.

As Yuuri climbed down from his bar stool, his foot slipped and his body threatened to topple. Viktors arm shot out, bracing in anticipation of Yuuri’s body weight. But it was not he that broke Yuuri’s fall. It was Sosuke. His arms clutched Yuuri’s biceps as he helped him stand. 

“Are you okay?” He asked in Japanese. 

“Yeah, just didn’t realise how much I’d had to drink.” Viktor’s eyes narrowed at the back of Sosuke’s head, does he not know what happens to Yuuri when he’s had too much to drink? 

Sosuke led Yuuri to the door, gesturing for him to go first. Yuuri’s eyes flicked nervously to Viktor before he disappeared into the night. Sosuke turned at the door, his eyes meeting with Viktor’s in a solemn glare, “After you, Viktor.”

 He spoke in accented Russian. Viktor stilled, body going rigid. His blood boiled at Sosuke’s spiteful use of his mother tongue. Where had he learnt Russian? And how much did he know? Gritting his teeth, Viktor returned Sosuke’s challenging stare. His dark, lifeless eyes sent a chill up Viktor’s spine. Struggling to keep his composure, Viktor stepped in front of Sosuke and out into the cold spring night. He’d have to tell Chris not to use Russian around Sosuke. Maybe French would do. 

* * *

 Three bars and many, many drinks later Yuuri sat slumped against Phichit in what had to be the dingiest karaoke bar in Milan. In one hand, he held a fluorescent blue drink that tasted like candy water, the other he waved in the air in time with the nineties ballad Chris was singing. He was dancing with Emil and JJ, the three of them singing sloppily into Chris’s microphone. Sosuke sat beside Yuuri, one leg crossed coolly over the other. His cheeks were flushed red, but otherwise he showed no signs of how much he’d had to drink. Sosuke had remained mostly quiet throughout the night, contentedly playing the role of bystander and sticking close to Yuuri’s side. 

Viktor sat on the opposite side of the room in a mirror of Sosuke’s pose. He was talking to Michel, who was leaning into Viktor’s side and gesturing wildly with his right hand, his left arm draped languidly around Viktor’s shoulders. 

Throughout the night Yuuri had made a point to always be on the opposite side of the room to Viktor, lest they get too close and make loaded eye contact that reminded him of when they used to kiss and make breakfast together in the morning. He’d sat at the opposite end of the table at their first bar, danced with Phichit on the other side of the dance floor at their second and had gotten himself as far away from Viktor as possible at their third. Now he allowed himself a glance at the great world champion while he was distracted. Yuuri drank in everything about Viktor that had changed and everything that hadn’t. His eyes memorizing the lines of Viktor’s face anew, tracing the length of his hair and marveling at the way it reached down to tickle his jaw. He watched Viktor’s hand reach up and tuck a silver stand behind his ear with a delicate hand and smirk to himself when it fell right back down. Oh, how he had been loved by that smirk.   

Looking away from Viktor, Yuuri shook his head, as he often did when he was trying to clear his thoughts of the silver man. His cheek brushed against the fabric of Phichit’s jacket and it was so warm and so soft that Yuuri couldn’t help but nuzzle deeper against him.                                           

“What’s up Yuuri?” Phichit slurred affectionately, his breath tickling Yuuri’s face. 

“Need better alcohol” Yuuri said as Phichit’s eyes floated down to the drink in his hand.

“Better alcohol huh?” Phichit sat up straight, accidentally knocking Yuuri’s head off his chest, “Tequila! Tequila shots are the answer, Chris!” Chris’s ears pricked up at his name and his eyes slid languidly towards them.

“Tequila!” Phichit shouted to him.

“Tequila!” Chris repeated, announcing it to the room. He pawed his microphone off onto JJ and ordered them a round on the dingy touch screen barely mounted to the wall. Before long, twelve shots arrived with lime and salt and the whole group was ushered around the small table where Viktor and Michel were sitting. 

“Everyone ready?” Phichit asked, flashing his mischievous grin around the circle. Yuuri’s fingers felt light around his shot glass, his head even lighter. He’d ended up directly across from Viktor in the circle, with only the table between them. The top two buttons of Viktor’s dress shirt were undone and half of it had come untucked from his pants. He was absolutely mesmerizing, and in Yuuri’s state, he couldn’t help himself but look. 

“Three, two, one!” came Phichit’s excited voice. Yuuri watched with hooded eyes as Viktor’s tongue came out to lick the salt off the back of his hand, eyes scrunching from its intensity. Yuuri’s skin prickled and he looked away, feeling suddenly stifled in the small circle. 

After the count everyone slammed back their tequila, winces gracing faces around the room. Yuuri relished the burn on his throat and the warmth that coursed through him, hoping it would chase away his confusing thoughts about Viktor.

“Okay,” Chris said, his voice low as if about to share a secret. He shared a look with Phichit that Yuuri had seen countless times, a look that was all twinkling eyes and bad ideas. 

“Let’s shake things up a little” he continued, “Phichit and I have noticed some of you have been shying away from the spotlight, so we’re going to play spin the microphone. Basically, we’ll spin the two microphones and whoever it lands on has to sing the next song on our playlist” groans of protest sounded from around the circle.

“Areeee youuuu reaadddyyyyyy?” 

Yuuri was not a very good singer, but drunk Yuuri didn’t particularly care. If the microphone stopped its endless spinning pointed in his direction, Yuuri would be up for the challenge.

The microphone chose Yuri as the first singer cuing a slur of swears from the young Russian that only intensified when the next spin landed on JJ. 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” he growled as JJ beamed wide and flung an arm around his shoulders.

“Let’s do this partner!”

Yuri shrugged JJ’s arm away violently and shot a look to Otabek who was struggling to keep his laughter at bay. Reluctantly Yuri slunk to the stage, snatching his microphone out of Chris’s hand. 

Toxic by Britney Spears came on and the whole room practically lost it. Phichit’s phone was out within two seconds and Yuuri had never seen Otabek laugh so hard. Across the booth Viktor’s eyes danced with amusement as he watched his friends navigate the sensual song. Yuuri felt the familiar pang of jealousy twist his insides. It wasn’t Yuuri who put that sparkle in Viktor’s eyes anymore.

Despite their original protests, JJ and Yuri put on a bloody good show, their singing was ridiculous but they danced with all the grace and rhythm they took to the ice, playing off each other as if they’d done this a dozen times. They were performers after all. 

As the song ended Yuri threw his mic to the ground dramatically. Laughing, he smacked hands with JJ who pulled him into a sweaty half hug. Yuuri was on his feet with the rest of the gang clapping and shouting at them.

Chris gathered them back around the table for another round and when the microphone stopped its spinning in his direction Yuuri was so ready. He was ready to sing, to get on that stage and belt his heart out as long as the universe held up its end and didn’t pair him with _one person_. Anticipation tingled across his skin as he looked around the circle at his friends. 

When the spinning stopped Yuuri’s heart dropped into his stomach as he looked up at who it was pointing to. 

Oh fuck. 

Their eyes met across the table and for a beat the whole room was silent. That was a dangerous thing to do, to meet the eyes of a man you so desperately loved when you were trying so hard not to. Viktor’s eyes were questioning, his silver brows furrowed slightly. Yuuri longed to be let into his head. 

Phichit and Chris gave each other a concerned look and were about to suggest a redo when Viktor’s slender fingers came down to wrap around the microphone, his expression now blank, a closed book. 

Yuuri breathed out, perfectly aware of what a bad idea this was, and picked up his own. His eyes flickered briefly to Sosuke whose face was stoic as always.  Yuuri turned back in time to see Viktor slam back another shot and wipe his mouth with his forearm as he shrugged out of his jacket. Yuuri felt a strange buzz of excitement which he would blame on the alcohol in the morning. 

They took their place next to each other at the front of the room while Chris selected the next song on the playlist they’d been adding to. The beat to a song he didn’t immediately recognize started playing, luckily, Viktor was up first. The room was almost entirely silent and Yuuri was not unaware of the awkwardness that hung thick in the air. 

Viktor’s singing voice was clear and in tune and, sometimes, even good. His body was tense as he sang the first few lines. 

            _You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar_  
_When I met you_  
_I picked you out, I shook you up and turned you around_  
_Turned you into someone new_

Yuuri recognized the song now. Heat prickled across his skin as Viktor continued to sing, the lyrics painfully reflective of their situation.

          _Now five years later on you've got the world at your feet_  
_Success has been so easy for you_  
_But don't forget, it's me who put you where you are now_  
_And I can put you back down too_

Viktor navigated the verse cautiously, his eyes never leaving the screen. He swayed gently as he sang, limbs loose from the tequila he’d slammed back. 

       _Don't, don't you want me?_  
_You know I can't believe it when I hear that you won't see me_  
_Don't, don't you want me?_  
_You know I don't believe you when you say that you don't need me_

Yuuri thought he heard Viktor’s voice catch on the last line. It was too raw, too real.   
  
      _It's much too late to find_  
_You think you've changed your mind_  
_You'd better change it back or we will both be sorry_

At the pre-chorus, other voices joined in as they recognized the song. Phichit and Chris were singing and dancing at the front of the room with them and every cell in Yuuri’s body reached out to thank them as it was his turn to join the song. He heard his voice come out through the speakers, drunk and tentative, melding together with Viktor’s for the chorus.

            _Don't you want me, baby?_  
_Don't you want me, ohh?_  
_Don't you want me, baby?_  
_Don't you want me, ohh?_

It felt good to hear their voices together. Felt good to be standing next to Viktor, to be doing something with him instead of trying to avoid him. Yuuri let himself relax as his voice left his body, taking with it some of the tension set deep in his bones. 

           _The five years we have had have been such good times_  
          _I still love you_  
_But now I think it's time I live my life on my own_  
_I guess it's just what I must do_

Yuuri’s brain was telling him this was a bad idea, but it was fuzzy under layers of tequila as he sang his solo verse. His heart ached at how accurate the lyrics were, how truly they reflected their experience and yet he felt so liberated singing with Viktor, saying the things he’d wanted to say but hadn’t and all under the guise of intoxication and to the ridiculous beat of the song. They were all friends, drunk friends singing karaoke. Friends just trying to forget the stresses of an international figure skating event. Friends just trying to forget that they were in love. That they hurt each other deeply. 

Viktor must have felt the same, because he turned to Yuuri as they sang the next chorus together. The skin around Viktor’s eyes crinkled with amusement and he let the words belt out of his mouth with all the volume the sound proof room could take. Yuuri laughed into the microphone, meeting his ex-lover’s eyes. Viktor smiled then and it was like afternoon sun washing over him, Yuuri felt its warmth all the way down to his toes. His body gravitated towards Viktor. They were planets in orbit. 

            _Don't you want me, baby?_ _  
_

 I do. Yuuri thought, looking at Viktor beside him ruffled and sweaty but laughing despite himself. I really, really do. Their bodies were so close now that Yuuri could feel the heat radiating from Viktor’s glistening skin. Sweating now himself, Yuuri took off his jacket, his eyes never leaving Viktor’s. Lightning flashed across their deep blue surface and Yuuri’s skin hummed with heat. 

Feeling bold, he stepped forward intending to close the distance between them but coming up against air when Viktor stepped back suddenly. Stripped of his elegance while intoxicated, Viktor’s foot caught the edge of the table as he dodged Yuuri’s advance, he threw his arm out to steady himself and it knocked into the glass jug that held the mysterious blue liquid. Viktor secured his balance, but his arm knocked the jug to ground where it shattered into pieces. The sound broke through their fantasy and Yuuri was suddenly aware of everyone else in the room. Sosuke was standing now, clutching at his arm. 

“What happened?” Yuuri moved to Sosuke’s side, adrenaline had lifted the groggy spell he’d been under as Sosuke removed his hand to reveal a long cut on his arm oozing red. 

“A piece of glass flew up… I was sitting right where it smashed…” Sosuke winced in pain as he moved his arm. 

The music had been stopped and everyone was standing, tensely watching on. Behind him Viktor’s eyes were wide, his mouth formed into a thin line. Silence enveloped the once lively room but the echoe of Viktor’s voice still rang in his ears.  

“Let’s get you to the bathroom.” Yuuri said, his hand insistent on Sosuke’s upper arm. 

Otabek handed Sosuke a bundle of napkins, which he gratefully accepted, “It’s okay Yuuri. I can go myself it’s not that bad.” He looked into Yuuri’s concerned eyes, Sosuke’s calm gaze steadied Yuuri’s fluttering heart.

They stepped out into the hallway, with Viktor in tow, “Ueh…Sosuke, I’m sorry… I..”

“I’ve got this Viktor” Yuuri bit out. It wasn’t Viktor’s fault that the glass had bounced up and cut Sosuke. It wasn’t Viktor’s fault that they’d sung together, forgetting for a moment the absolute disaster that had become of their relationship. It wasn’t Viktor’s fault that he was still, despite it all, desperately hung up over him. But Yuuri was angry, angry at himself, at their situation and he couldn’t help himself from lashing out then, “Just go. We’re fine.” 

Viktor’s lower lip hung forward and his eyebrows furrowed. Something rippled across his face and his façade shifted to a dull echo of its previous light. He swallowed and gave a slow nod before turning back into the booth, the door sliding shut behind him. Yuuri noticed, with a dull ache in his heart, that Viktor had ben clutching his right hand to his chest, his fingers contorted in pain.

In the bathroom, Sosuke ran his arm under the tap, leaning his weight into the porcelain sink. Yuuri leant on the bench opposite him, watching the water rush over the pale skin of his wrist. 

“Sorry about that” Sosuke said into the silence, “I have the worst timing.” 

Yuuri huffed out a laugh and shook his head, “No, don't worry about it. It wasn’t your fault at all. That shouldn't have even happened.” It really shouldn't have happened. What were they thinking? What was Viktor thinking! Coming out on a night like this without his hand bandaged, being so careless with it when they were about to take to the ice in front of the world. 

Sosuke turned to the mirror, surveying his reflection. They’d both sobered up measurably from a few minutes ago.    

“Are you still in love with him?” the question came so suddenly it knocked the air right out of Yuuri’s lungs. Sosuke was staring at him through the mirror, his face was blank but his eyes stared with intent.  

“I..”  

“It’s only going to hold you back Yuuri. _He’ll_ only hold you back. You’re destined for greater things.” Sosuke’s words twisted Yuuri’s insides. He knew Sosuke was right, pining for Viktor was holding him back. But he didn’t know if there would be anything in his future greater than what they’d had.   

They needed closure. Or something like it. And he was only going to get it by talking to Viktor. Sosuke was startling blunt in his delivery, but Yuuri knew that his coach believed in him, believed that this was going to be his best season yet. And it would be if Yuuri could stop agonizing over Viktor.  

Yuuri’s fists curled at his sides and he met Sosuke’s gaze through the mirror with determination. 

He would talk to Viktor tonight.

* * *

[leekay](https://leeekay.tumblr.com)

[luidi](http://luidiwrites.tumblr.com)

[yoml ](https://yoml.tumblr.com/post/163130810109/%E7%BF%BB%E8%A8%B3-pretend-you-do-by-leekay-1)(Japanese translation) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! 
> 
> I want you all to know that I happy dance and squeal inside (and sometimes irl) every time I get a comment, bookmark or kudos etc so thank you so so much for the feedback! <3
> 
> Luidi (whom I owe my fiction writing life to) and I have just started back at uni and this semester looks to be pretty intense so I hope you'll understand if the updates are late. I'm thinking I will probably be able to get them out once a fortnight but this might change in heavy assessment periods. 
> 
> In the meantime, come say hey over on tumblr! I've started a new blog for my writing and would totally love it if you guys wanted to chat or send writing requests or talk about this fic! @leeekay.tumblr.com (had to use three e's cause leekay with two was taken!)
> 
> ALSO, the amazing Yoml has translated the first chapter of this fic into Japanese and I still cannot get over how absolutely fantastic that is! ありがとうございました！(link above)
> 
> And finally, I'm working on putting together a playlist for this fic so if you guys have any recommendations for songs to put on it please hit me up either in the comments or on tumblr and I'll have a listen! 
> 
> Until next time <3 
> 
> (my notes are always so long omg sorry)


	7. A Rendezvous on the Rooftop and A Point of No Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I see the way he looks at you, touches you. It's not real Yuuri, he’s a liar."
> 
> In which Viktor and Yuuri bare their hearts (and a little skin) on a cold rooftop in Italy.

Switzerland, 2018

...

_"Chris?" Viktor's panicked voice echoed down the line, sending Chris' body immediately into alert._

_"Viktor? What's going on, are you okay?" Chris' voice was groggy with sleep as he got out of bed gently so as not to wake Damien. He moved to the kitchen, his body caught in a paradox of adrenaline and fatigue._

_"I'm sorry it's so late". Chris let his eyes flick to the clock on the wall. The neon lights flashed the time at him, two thirty in the morning. It would be even later in Russia._

_"Don't worry about it. What's up?"_

_Viktor's shaky breath sounded from down the line "I just needed to talk to someone. I was practicing today and I kept falling and falling... I hurt my hand again"_

_"What happened?"_

_"I fel... I got angry"_

_"Jesus Christ Viktor are you out of your mind?" Chris's heart ached as he remembered the sight of Viktor's huddled form on the ice. His bleeding and broken hand. His hollow eyes at the hospital as Chris spouted a lie to Yakov._

“Please Chris we can't tell him the truth, he won't let me skate.” 

“Maybe you shouldn't Viktor.”

“But it's the only thing I've got left.” 

_Viktor’s voice brought him back to the present, "I know I know, it's... not that bad this time."_

_They were silent for a few moments as Chris waited for Viktor to gather his thoughts. He reached for his robe, draped over the back of a bar stool and fixed himself a glass of water._

_"What is wrong with me Chris? Why can't I get out of this slump?"_

_"You're hurt."_

_"So is Yuuri and he seems to be doing fine."_

_"Viktor. I told you not to watch those videos."_

_"I can't help myself!"_

_"Sosuke is a piece of work." Chris had watched all of the videos, something akin to rage, or maybe sadness, flaring in his chest every time he saw a new one posted. Every time he heard Sosuke’s voice alongside Yuuri, saw their faces in the same frame, he saw Viktor, crushing his hand into the ice, Yuuri’s name a dead cry on his lips._

_"But Yuuri looks... happy, happier than I've seen him in a while. It just made me realise how toxic we were for each other."_

_Chris breathed out and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't think toxic is the word you're looking for Viktor. You were just having trouble. Trouble working through your problems and then things escalated" Chris considered his words carefully, "you've never …really told me what happened. One day you guys were in love the next you're walking out of the banquet. How did it get to that point…Do you want to talk about it?"_

_Chris waited for Viktor to speak. He wasn't hopeful that the older man would give up anything. Viktor was a closed book, locked and bound. Chris may have read more than others but there was still so much he didn't know.  So much about Viktor that no one knew._

_He was surprised when Viktor spoke, "It was all my fault. I pushed Yuuri away when he was just trying to help. He saw that I was exhausted and he tried to do something about it but it just... it hurt so much Chris._

_"I'll never forget how it felt. Yuuri believed in me, he was always there supporting me and loving me, loving me like I haven't been loved since... well ever. I'll never forget that pain when he told me about his new coach. I wasn't good enough. I'm not good enough._

_"He did it for us, for our relationship but it just felt like him giving up on me. It was worse than I don't love you. It was I don't believe in you."_

_"You know that's not true Viktor." Chris' voice was a whisper._

_"The biggest mistake I ever made was pushing him away. We could have talked about it, we could have found him a new coach together. But I just shut down and I pushed him away. It was like being too close to the sun. And I burnt up."_

_Viktor's breathing was heavy down the phone line. Chris didn't know if he'd ever heard his friend talk so much about his feelings. It both relieved and scared him._

_"I have to keep skating. I can't give them both up, I'll have nothing left. But I don't know how I'll be around him. And Sosuke. They'll be there together talking and training and in the kiss and cry, watching me skate and..."_

_"Viktor. It will be okay."_

_"But I left him in the rain. I drove away."_

_"We all make mistakes. As dumb as that sounds."_

_"Gigantic life altering ones?"_

_Chris chuckled, "everyday"._

_Chris could almost hear Viktor's smile. Almost._

_"Seriously, it'll be fine. Just like being at a party with your ex. Like when I broke up with Serge and then we ran into him at that promotional thing and pretended we didn't know him all night."_

_Viktor laughed down the line, "God that was ages ago" Chris's heart fluttered with relief, Viktor's voice sounded lighter, like he'd stepped back from the brink of tears._

_"Like five years I think." Chris yawned trying to stifle it with his hand._

_"I'm sorry. It's late, I should let you get back to bed, to Damien."_

_"Don't ever worry about calling me Viktor. I'm always here"_

_"Chris. Thank you."_

_"Just for the record, I believe in you, Viktor."_

* * *

 Milano, 2018

...

For the second time that night Viktor found himself staring out at the city, the cool air lapping at his neck. This time he was on the roof of their hotel, it was old and beautiful with an herb garden and a little love seat swing set. Viktor didn't sit on it. 

How had so much gone wrong in so little time? How had he gotten Yuuri and lost him again in the space of four minutes? He’d stepped away at karaoke because he felt that it wasn't right, Yuuri was drunk and not making sound decisions. If he was going to make up he was going to do it when they were sober and not in front of a room of their friends. 

The door to the roof opened and Viktor tensed. Yuuri had asked him to meet up here. Viktor listened to the footsteps as he came closer, shivering when he felt Yuuri's presence beside him. 

Yuuri leant against the railing with his forearms in a mirror of Viktor's pose, “Thanks for meeting with me," he sounded like an ex-husband at a divorce meeting. 

Viktor cleared his throat, it crackled in the cool air, "I'm sorry about Sosuke. I didn't mean to..."

"Don't be. It was an accident." 

Viktor nodded, surprised by the curtness of Yuuri's voice. 

He shifted his weight nervously and placed his forearms on the railing, the cool metal against his skin did nothing to calm the heat that curled up the back of his neck. 

"Why did you want to meet me up here?"

He caught the small upturn Yuuri's of Yuuri’s mouth out of the corner of his eye, "You know why Viktor" the sad smile on Yuuri's lips almost made Viktor hopeful, maybe Yuuri had come to kiss his face off and tell him it was a huge mistake going to Sosuke, "I think it's time for us to talk. We've been here for one day and we're already making an emotional mess. The only way to get closure is to talk about this."

Oh. 

When Viktor didn't say anything Yuuri continued, "Do you want to sit?"

Viktor nodded and let Yuuri lead him to the swing. 

"I don't even know where to start." Yuuri laughed awkwardly, wiping his hands along his thighs. Viktor took in the nervous arch of Yuuri’s neck, the tightness of his fake smile. It made him ache to think of how close they’d once been, of how their bodies had been like liquid against each other, fluid and everlasting.

 Finding his voice in the tension filled silence, Viktor spoke "I'd like to start with I'm sorry. About that day at the banquet, leaving you there like that, taking off, it was... cowardly of me."

 Yuuri’s eyes fluttered to his in surprise and the muscles of his face relaxed, "I'm sorry for saying the things I did, especially drunk and almost naked in front of all those people." 

 Viktor huffed out a weak laugh.

 Yuuri's face was serious, "I'm sorry for not telling you about Sosuke." Viktor looked away from Yuuri. He hated the way that sounded, like it had been Sosuke all along. They'd probably been in contact before he and Yuuri had fought. 

 "I thought I was doing the right thing for you, for us, but I fucked it all up." 

 Viktor shook his head, still avoiding Yuuri's gaze, "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did."

 Yuuri looked at Viktor, eyes sweeping over his face in a way that had Viktor feeling vulnerable, "Why _did_ you react like that? I... expected you to be more, understanding and I hoped... that you'd be a little grateful. You were so tired all the time, you barely had the energy to sit at the dinner table with me." 

 Viktor's jaw stiffened as he stared straight ahead, his fingers cramping tight around the railing of the swing. He remembered that exhaustion, remembered the way it flooded his bones and his consciousness. Remembered how the only thing keeping him going was coaching Yuuri, seeing him do well, skating the compositions they'd come up with, perfecting the moves they'd practiced together. 

 He spoke slowly, deliberately, "The exhaustion never mattered to me, as long as you were doing well, Yuuri." His name sounded like a secret on Viktor's tongue, "I was planning to retire."

 Viktor looked to Yuuri then, whose face was blank with shock. His eyes shifted to his feet as he contemplated Viktor's words. 

 "So, why didn't you? Why did you come back?" 

 "I couldn't leave after what happened at the banquet. It wasn't the right time. Besides, with you gone... it's the only thing I know."

 Yuuri averted his gaze and Viktor thought he saw the slightest blush rise to his pale cheeks, “I... don't understand... if you were going to retire why were you so upset about me finding a new coach?"

 "Because you didn't talk to me about it and it felt like, like… you didn't believe in me. In us."

 Yuuri sighed and it rumbled all throughout his body, a deep, exhausted sound, "Viktor, you know that's not true, I was doing it for us."

 Remorse flared in Viktor’s chest and he felt compelled suddenly to throw himself at Yuuri’s feet and beg forgiveness. Instead he looked Yuuri in the eye and told him the words he’d been holding on to from the start, "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I pushed you away and I'm sorry, Yuuri. It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made."

 They were both silent for a moment, their eyes burning into each other. Yuuri’s head gave a slight nod and the tension in Viktor’s body melted with his forgiveness. Viktor moved to lean in closer, but Yuuri turned away, enveloping them in a cloud of tension that had become almost comfortable in its frequency.

 "How's your hand?" Yuri asked into the silence after a few moments.

 Viktor's eyes shot down to his right hand in panic. He'd forgotten that Yuuri and Sosuke had seen his bandage in the green room. 

 "It's... fine."

 "What happened?" Yuuri asked gently. The concern in his voice made Viktor ache. 

 He considered carefully what to say, he didn’t want to lie, but Viktor wasn't sure how Yuuri would react. Would he be concerned or furious?

 "I hurt it on the ice." Viktor said finally, deciding that that was enough.

 "It looks pretty bad though, did you fall out of a jump?"

"Something like that." Yuuri looked at him sideways, not at all convinced that Viktor was telling the truth. 

"Look you don't have to tell me if you don't want to Viktor. I'm sorry for asking." He could hear the irritation in Yuuri's voice.

 "It's not that... I just don't want you to worry." 

 Yuuri's breath hitched in his throat and he turned to Viktor, hands at his sides, "It's too late for that, I already am."

 Viktor felt a shiver ripple across his skin at Yuuri’s words, he met his eyes, deciding immediately that it was a very, very bad idea. Drinking in the sight of Yuuri, the concerned line of his mouth, the droop of his eyes, and all so close, it was enough to make Viktor’s knees feel weak. He was silent for a long time, deciding what to say. 

 "I fell when trying to do a jump" his voice was slow, level, "and I was just feeling so... frustrated that day that I... well, took my anger out on the ice." Yuuri's eyes widened as he pieced together Viktor's words. His mouth formed a small O, staying like that for a few moments.

 "Why would you do that Viktor?"

 "It doesn't matter now."

 "But why would you do that to yourself, knowing what's at stake?" Yuuri’s expression was twisted with confusion, concern and anger all at once.

 "I just wasn't thinking straight."

 "Then what were you thinking?" The harsh demand of Yuuri’s questioning voice pushed Viktor over the edge.

 "About you! Yuuri. God damnit. About you and Sosuke and those laughing children and how I left you in the rain and how happy you looked in those photos and... just... all of this."

For once Yuuri's expression was unreadable to Viktor. His eyes were dark shields, concealing months of pain and confusion. His hand reached out ever so slowly, inching towards Viktor's face like a timid puppy. Something swelled in Viktor's heart and he reached out to catch Yuri's hand in the air, bringing it to rest against the cold skin of his cheek. 

They were both breathing heavily, blissfully trapped in a moment that felt like it would never end. Then, as if their bodies moved in sync to a silent rhythm, Yuri's other hand shot out to cup Viktor's bare cheek, and Viktor's arm circled Yuri's waist to pull him against his chest. Their lips met with a fire that could have burned down the city. Desire flared in Viktor's stomach as he let the tide of Yuuri's affection wash over him. 

Yuuri had one hand tangled in his hair, the other reaching through the buttons of his shirt to graze the skin of his stomach with cold fingers. Viktor let out a moan that rumbled deep in his throat and moved to unbutton his shirt with shaky fingers. Yuuri's jacket was on the ground now and Viktor didn't want to stop until every piece of his clothing joined it. 

Just as he reached the last button, Yuuri's lips jerked away from Viktor's and he lurched back across the bench. 

Victor couldn't help the confusion that distorted his face. The ache that drenched his heart. He felt as if Yuuri's eyes were looking through him, as if he were a glass pillar, vulnerable and completely see through.

"Yuuri?" His voice came out strangled, desperate, it wobbled in the air around them.

"We can't do this Viktor" Yuuri sighed, shifting to put more distance between them, "Too much has changed." 

Viktor felt that deep, hidden rage bubble up in his chest, the rage he'd felt upon hearing Sosuke's name on Yuuri's lips for the first time. The rage he thought he'd buried. It oozed across his skin like hot tar.

"Nothing has changed Yuuri! Literally nothing except for that arrogant bastard you call a coach!" The cool night air licked at Viktor's bare skin and he hurried to button his shirt up, fingers shaking now from his rage.  

Yuuri looked as if he didn't know how to continue, mouth contorted into a deep frown. Viktor hated how perfect he looked then, with his hair ruffled and his shirt askew, a pink blush to his lips from where Viktor's teeth had dug into them, "It's not just Sosuke, Viktor, we've changed. You know that."

"People don't change Yuuri! I'm the same workaholic that I was 10 years ago. Sosuke is the same manipulative asshole I knew. He's got you wrapped around his finger the same way he did with the others, he's controlling your emotions." Viktor heaved in a deep breath, trying to speak his mind before Yuuri interrupted, his thoughts like venom he had to spit out, “I see the way he looks at you, touches you. It's not real Yuuri, he’s a liar." 

"How would you know Viktor? You've never spent more than 20 minutes with him... he's been good for my career. Good for me. But you would see that if you weren't so jealous."  

"Jealous!? Are you serious? I'm not jealous that you're with that asshole I'm worried for you! Don't you know what he was like when he was skating, didn't you ever hear rumours about him? He's a manipulator Yuuri, he preys on the weak and he always gets his way." 

Yuuri let out a dark laugh, his eyes jerking around violently, arms coming up to cross his chest, a fleshy shield that would barely protect him from Viktor’s venom, “I don’t believe a word you’re saying Viktor. The extent of your jealousy is pathetic. This is exactly what happened last time.” 

“You know what’s pathetic Yuuri? That two minutes ago I would have given anything to be with you again. That I felt as if all our problems started with me. But I was wrong. You can fuck off back to Sosuke, I’m done with all of this. I’m done.”   

Yuuri just stared, his usually placid eyes burying into Viktor's skin.  

"Clearly people do change, Viktor." He said softly before turning and walking away, off the roof, down the stairs, out of Viktor's life.  

Viktor swore the image of Yuuri's blank dead expression before he walked away would remain tattooed on the back of his eyelids for the rest of his life.  

The rooftop was silent but for the distant sound of cars on the road, he could hear his blood pumping in his ears. His body rigid. He wondered at the truth of what he'd just said. Was there life for Viktor beyond Yuuri? He tried to imagine what this life looked like, but all Viktor could see was haze, thick like fog and as dark as night.

How did he manage to be such an idiot every time? 

Viktor let his head fall into his hands, hot tears ran down his nose and dripped onto the concrete below him, though he didn't know why. Was this the sorrow of losing Yuuri crashing in waves all too familiar, or were these tears borne of uncertainty? He’d wanted Yuuri back so badly he hadn't stopped to think on whether he'd wanted Yuuri back at all. His delusions came crashing down around him, the hope that he and Yuuri would work things out was gone, replaced with a dull ache he wasn’t sure he’d recover from. 

"GOD DAMNIT" he screamed suddenly, strangled voice ripping into the night. It bubbled up again, the anger that made him want to rip his hair out, to punch his fist into the ground. No. No, he wouldn't do that again. He knew better now. 

The door to the roof clicked open and Viktor stiffened, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. A low sigh escaped the lips of the person that had come onto the roof. Peering out under his long silver locks Viktor watched as Yuri P lent against the cool railing overlooking the city, a mirror of Viktor's earlier pose. 

"Katsudon said I would find you here."  

Viktor's ears pricked up like a dog, "You spoke to Yuuri?" The younger man nodded. 

"Was he ... is he..." Viktor trailed off, the question dying on his tongue. 

"You fucked up Viktor." Yuri spoke, turning from his perch to meet Viktor's eyes.  

"I know." 

"Like over and over again. I thought you guys would work things out but you just kept fucking up."  

Viktor didn't say a word, he walked over to lean at Yuri's side, wind stinging his tear stained face.   

"Is that why you've been ignoring me?"

"I don't have time to waste on idiots."  

Viktor let out a dark laugh and dragged a hand down his face.  

"Seriously Viktor how did things fuck up so badly? Why did you play that stupid game at the banquet?" Yuri was shooting off questions he'd been curious about since that night but had been too angry to ask.

"I don't know, Yuri. I don't know why I do anything anymore."  

The younger blonde was silent for a few moments, Viktor was awaiting his snarky response, but it never came.  

"I know what you mean." Yuri said, to Viktor's surprise.  

He continued when Viktor's looked at him with eyebrows arched, "Otabek and I are in... are seeing each other" he avoided Viktor's gaze, "so I know what you mean, about not being able to control your actions."  

Viktor's smiled, "You and Otabek hey? That's a surprise." He turned to Yuri with the shadow of mischief lingering in his eyes.

Yuri nudged him with an elbow but laughed weakly despite himself.  

"Congratulations though, Yuri, its brave of you to pursue who you love.” 

"Take your own advice Viktor. I'll kill you if you ever repeat this but I always looked up to what you had with Yuuri. You guys loved each other in front of the whole world, so that's why I'll tell you what I told Yuuri at that banquet before everything fucked up; you need to fix this. Soon." 

Viktor's heart warmed briefly at Yuri's words, until he realized the weight of them, "Wait, you spoke to Yuuri that night? He told you what was going on?" 

Yuri's eyes were conflicted as he looked at Viktor, not speaking for excruciating seconds that felt like years.

"Yeah" He let out a slow breath and watched it fog in front of him, "I found him crying in the bathroom after dinner." 

Viktor's stomach twisted and his grip on the railing tightened at the thought of Yuuri curled up in a cubicle, confused and heartbroken and silently crying. Yuuri had been hurting more than Viktor had ever realised.  

He breathed out shakily and looked over at Yuri. His slim body outlined by the sparkle of the city lights, mouth set into a frown. Suddenly Viktor saw with perfect clarity what he was to do. He saw the next step of his life laid out for him like an envelope on a silver platter. Not just the next step, but the step after that, and after that and after that.  

"Yuri, can you do me a favour?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you help me cut my hair?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey All! I hope you're having a happy holidays! I want to thank you all so much for your patience, and for sticking with the story and commenting etc. during my absence (which was appallingly long this time I'm sorry!). The combo of uni, retail at christmas and preparing for overseas exchange this semester (!!!) left little time for leisure, so this chapter was mostly written in fragments on lunch breaks and buses etc! I would definitely recommend re-reading at least the last chapter, just to reorient yourself (lord knows I had to.) 
> 
> As always thank you a million times over to my beta Luidi who has been a major source of motivation and has supported me through the whole process, I couldn't have done it without you!
> 
> Lastly, I will be living and studying in Japan for the next six months on exchange (which is both exciting and terrifying) so I don't know how this will affect my updates, hopefully I'll be able to write a lot before I go! I hope you guys will be just as supportive and patient with me during this time as I try my best to pump out that good old angst! 
> 
> Again thanks you eternally for how kind and wonderful you've all been, I do hope you enjoy this update, and look forward to them being more frequent!
> 
> Happy reading <3


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